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For the Weekend Ch. 02

By: missuscooper



(Author's note--for those who have given me encouraging messages and constructive criticism--I thank you, and my husband thanks you for encouraging me to continue!)

*

I move to the bathroom and look in the mirror. My face is streaked with drying sperm, as much as I have ever been painted with. I wet a washcloth and clean my face of Tim's cumstreaks, then run my fingers through my hair, trying to remove as much of his orgasm as possible. Once I'm satisfied with the results, I remove my garter and stockings. My cunt is on overload and I'm tempted to stroke my throbbing clit to gain some relief, but I realize that my first orgasm should come at the touch of the fingers of my owner, or the tip of his tongue, or the ramming of his cock. I stand and look at myself in the mirror--nude, ready to fulfill a strange man's sexual demands, to be his toy. My deepest, darkest fantasies are coming to life, and the thoughts of them make my entire body tingle. 

I return to the sitting area to find Tim gone. I glance over at the open doorway to the bedroom and see him lying stretched out and nude on the king-size bed. He rolls onto his side and pats the space next to him, inviting me to lie down. 

I join him and he takes me in his arms, his tongue once again roving across my lips, his hands once again exploring my body. His mouth travels to my breast, hungrily sucking my nipple. 

Tim eventually kisses his way down my stomach to the top of my pussy. I do not need any encouragement and open my legs for him, inviting him to go further, to give my clit the attention it craves. His fingers caress from my inner thighs up to my mons, brushing my thatch and cuntlips as he goes, all the while kissing and licking my skin above my cunt. My hands push the top of his head down, urging him to place his tongue on my clit and caress me, but he resists, content to leave his mouth where it is. His hands continue to move, sliding his middle finger down over my clit and between my lips to my opening to feel my wetness. His finger does not yet enter me, but instead runs up my inner lips to one side, then down the other. Each circuit finds his finger lingering over my opening just a second longer each time before it begins it circuit again. Several more circuits, several more pauses, and then one pause his digit enters me, curling up inside me as his palm presses into the mound above my clit. I shudder reflexively as my first orgasm begins to build. I close my thighs around his hand while he rocks his finger and palm with a strong, steady rhythm. My orgasm crashes over me and takes me to another plane, the feeling so intense that my consciousness shifts from the here and now to somewhere else altogether. 

I come down off my sexual high and release Tim's hand. He raises his head from my crotch, looks at me, and smiles as his finger traces a wet line from my cunt, over my breast, and up to my lips. He continues to trace paths between the valley of my tits and the top of my pubic hair for several minutes while my body calms from my orgasm. I am lost in the moment—my first orgasm from a man other than my husband. The taboo of the moment thrills me, and I want to give myself to Tim completely. I revel in the feeling of things I had only imagined actually coming to pass.

After indulging me in this cooling-off period, Tim lays back and says, " bring that sweet thing closer for me to taste." I must look confused, because he clarifies. "Bring that beautiful pussy right up to my tongue." Now I understand--a 69! I quickly straddle his chest and stare down at his beautiful cock. Tim hooks his forearms around my thighs and pulls me closer to his tongue, lightly tracing a line around the outside of my outer lips. After several deliberate circuits he begins to slowly run the tip of his tongue up the length of my slit, just barely parting my engorged lips. He continues to dip a little further in to my cleft with each pass until his tongue is deep in me, drawing copious amounts of juice out of my cunt. His hands are not at rest, roaming my back and stomach before settling on my tits as he fondles and squeezes them.

I too am not idle while I enjoy Tim's oral attentions. I look down on his cock and see it has begun to regain it's erection. I take it in my mouth, using my lips to slide along the shaft. My tongue teases his slit when I reach the tip, then slides back down on the downstroke. I stop once or twice to lightly bite the mushroom at the end of his stalk, to feel the sponginess that covers the hardness underneath, then continue swallowing as much of his cock as I can fit in my mouth without choking.

His tongue continues to work on my slit, beginning to move my arousal back to its peak. Up and down it travels, sliding through and around my lips and flicking my clit before moving on. My excitement continues to build when he asks, "care to take a ride?" 

I swing my body around so I am facing him while straddling his cock. I lower myself until my tits rub below his chest, his cock nestled in the groove of my pussy. I pull my hips forward so the tip of his rod touches the opening of my pussy, then push my hips back again. Tim's cock slides into my cunt for the first time, filling me completely. He feels different from what I have experienced before, the way his body molds to mine. Not better or worse, just different. His hips begin a rocking motion, pulling and pushing his rod through my hole. As his left hand roams my back and ass, the index finger of his right hand dips to where is cock is entering me, then moves the moisture from that touch to my anus. He does this several times, taking liberties with my anus each pass, brushing it, massaging it, and finally slipping past my tight ring up to the first knuckle. I've never thought this to be very erotic, but today is different. This is his asshole to do with as he wants. I wonder if he will want more?

My rosebud begins to relax after the initial shock of his finger's entry, and he slides it in further. His cock continues to saw in and out of my pussy while his finger keeps time in my ass, only a thin wall of tissue separating them.

Suddenly Tim pulls his finger out and grabs my asscheeks with both hands as his thrusting becomes more frantic. Soon his powerful hips are driving his cock deep into my cunt and lifting me off the bed. His hands move to my hips and force me down on his spike as deeply as I can go. Several more thrusts, and he tenses, a hiss escaping his lips. He quiets and relaxes, all the while holding my hips to his. 

Eventually, Tim rolls me on to my back and lets his deflating cock fall out of me. 

"Stay there," he orders, and reaches for the camera now on the bedstand. Tim parts my legs and takes several photos of his juice leaking slowly down my slit towards my ass. He kneels between my legs and put his cock next to my cunt, taking a photo that captures the obvious remains of his orgasm still on his pole. 

"Are you hungry?" he asks. "The weekend is still young, and there is so much to do. Feel free to take a shower if you like. I'll have your clothes laid out for you when you get out."

I reach for a tissue to mop up the cum from my crotch. "No," he says. "Leave it. I want to see it run out of you as you get ready." I do as I am told and get to my feet. As I reach the doorway between the two rooms, there is a knock on the door. 

"Get that, please," he commands. I hesitate and start to go to the bathroom for at least a towel to cover my nudity. "Answer it as you are," Tim says. I again hesitate, but the bad girl in me wins the internal argument and invites me to play this game. I look through the peephole and see a young bellhop, probably about 20 years of age, standing there, holding a stack of towels. I am blushing from head to toe as I reach for the door handle. 

I open the door while standing behind it, trying to shield my nakedness from this stranger. The young man announces "the fresh towels you asked for, ma'am," and holds them out for me to take. I quickly realize I cannot stay behind the door and take them from the bellhop. I summon my courage and open the door wider so I may grab the towels. The young man's eyes grow wide as he takes in the scene before him. All sense of propriety leaves him and his eyes scan up and down my body, sizing me up. I can't imagine he has seen too many naked women in his life, and he is not going to miss this opportunity to fuel his masturbatory thoughts.

He hands me the towels and I clutch them to my chest, at least covering that part of me from his gaze. The young man never looks me in the face, instead looking back and forth below the towels to the vee of my legs. His eyes widen as they travel further down, following the trail of Tim's orgasm as it runs down the inside of my thigh. I thank him, and close the door. I turn and there and Tim is behind me, dressed in a robe and smiling.

"Well," he says, "you have guaranteed us excellent room service this weekend. Go ahead, get in the shower. I'll get your makeup and such."

For the Weekend Ch. 03



Chapter 3

I jump in the shower and clean myself up, only interrupted by Tim once as he pokes his head inside the curtain to say, "I love the look of a wet naked body!" He waits until I finish up and then gets in the shower to clean himself of the remains of our earlier fucking. I begin to dry off, but he says, "come over here and wash me." 

"OK", I say, but he turns to look at me and says "OK, what?" 

I remember my place, look at the floor, and say, "yes, Sir." I return to the bathtub and take the bar of soap and a washcloth, getting some lather worked up. I then start to rub my hands and the washcloth over his neck and shoulders, working up more of a lather as I move up and down his arms and back, stopping just before I reach that cute ass. I do this for a moment more, then drop the washcloth and run the side of my hand between his asscheeks, making sure I get him good and clean there. I pause just for a moment to make sure his asshole is clean (and tickled a bit in the process) and then move to his legs. I use both hands to scrub Tim's thighs and calves with the soap, making sure I pay equal attention to both legs. He then turns and faces me, presenting his frontside for my attention.

I once again begin at his neck, working my way through the hair on his chest, taking time to make sure his nipples are very clean. Moving my way down his stomach slowly, turning circles as I continue on, I eventually reach the top of his pubic hair. His cock, despite having given me two shots of cum already, is half-hard. I continue to wash, making sure his cock, balls, and taint get lots of attention. His pole continues to harden and I wonder if he wishes me to make him come again, but decide to move on to the front of his legs, giving them the same treatment the backs had gotten moments ago. He does not bring me back to his crotch, so I guess I made the right decision. Once I finish his legs, he tells me, "you can tend to your makeup now", and he turns to rinse off. I find that Tim has put my toiletries bag on the vanity as promised, along with some jewelry. On the counter is a pair of my diamond-stud earrings and a simple gold necklace. While drying off and applying my makeup, Tim gets out of the shower, runs his hand slowly across my ass, then goes into the other room. I finish, then move from the bathroom to the bedroom to begin dressing, noting that he has dressed in his jeans and a white shirt, and is sitting on the couch. He has laid out a black thigh-high skirt and red button-down blouse for me. No underwear, I note. This will be interesting for me to avoid flashing anyone who wishes a look. I reach for the shirt when I hear him say in a deep, growling voice, "what are you doing?" 

I turn with a start and see him standing in the doorway, a serious look on his face. "I was getting dressed...sir" I state uncertainly. 

"Did I give you permission?" he growls again. "I said you will remain nude until I say you can dress. Come here." Tim leaves the doorway and heads for the sitting room. 

When I reach the doorway, I see he is sitting in the easy chair again. I walk to him, unsure what to do next. When I reach him, he gently takes my arm and pulls me over his knee. My ass is right there for him to view. Tim doesn't look for long though, as he lands his open palm on my right asscheek. SMACK! I draw a breath, and then another blow lands. SMACK! I know he is not spanking me nearly as hard as he could, but I still feel the tingling sensation of the blow on my skin. SMACK! A third blow lands. I breathe deeply, trying to steel myself for the next blow, but instead I feel his finger working into my pussy.

"You're wet," he says. "Since that was supposed to be a punishment, I won't reward you with another fuck. Go and bend over the arm of the couch."

I do as I'm told while he goes to the bedroom. I expect further punishment, but instead he returns with the camera and stands behind me.

"Stick your ass out."

I quickly comply and the flash of the camera goes off, once, twice, and then a third time.

"I got some excellent shots of your red cheeks. I think one even shows my handprint. You can get dressed now."

I put on my skirt and blouse while Tim watches, then put on the low heels he has given me. I've never been really coordinated on high heels, so I'm glad he is allowing me to at least maintain my balance. A slip and fall in public could expose a lot more than I would like to. 

Tim escorts me downstairs and out to his truck, my outfit drawing a few surreptitious glances from a group of men in the lobby. His vehicle has been pulled up by the valet, and the young man quickly moves around the truck to open my door. I make my entry as quickly as possible, but as he shuts the door behind me, the smirk on his face is evidence he saw more than I had intended him to see. 

We drive to the restaurant, Tim's right hand gently massaging my inner thigh. His hand pushes my skirt up until I feel cool air on my mound, but his fingers never quite make it to my slit, instead circling and massaging just below my crotch. He continues this torture until we reach the parking lot of the restaurant. He parks, then comes to my side to open the door. Once again, getting out of his truck in this skirt leaves me exposed.

We take a table at in a booth in a dimly lit area at the back of the restaurant. We sit close to each other, close enough that he may reach any part of me easily. Dinner passes nicely with lots of conversation, some of it clean, most of it not, and with him occasionally rubbing my inner thighs, or with quick passes of his fingers over my nipples. He has unbuttoned my blouse to the point where it hangs open enough to allow him easy access, and I think at one point our waitress catches a glimpse of one of my pink-tipped cones. 

We finish dinner and make ready to go. As I begin to button my blouse, he gently catches my hand, looks me in the eye, but says nothing. I get the signal clearly enough though, and take my hands away from the buttons. I look down and realize that I will be on display on the way out. My chest blushes a deep red, and can only imagine that it matches the hue of my face. 

We make it to the truck without any major incidents and pull out of the parking lot. I'm hoping that we are heading back to the hotel where Tim will scratch the itch in my pussy and let me have the come I have wanted since my spanking, but I quickly see that we are not heading in the direction we came. I turn my hips toward him and open my legs, inviting him to play with my cunt, but he ignores the offer and drives on. Several minutes later we pull into a strip mall and park in front of an adult video store. 

Tim once again helps me out of the truck, ever the perfect gentleman, and leads me to the store. I have never been in a porn shop before, but have always imagined them as dirty, dimly-lit places with men in dirty trenchcoats pawing over magazines. To my surprise, when I walk in I find a brightly-lit department store of sex, with toys, videos, and a large assortment of lingerie and clothing. There are certainly lots of men browsing up and down the aisles, but many women, too. I begin to wonder exactly what it is we are looking for here—are we in the market for a new dildo or vibrator? I'm sure there are some sexy things back at hotel for me to wear, but I am unsure if any of my favorite clit-ticklers were included...

We walk past the several rows of toys, many of which I cannot easily identify with a quick glance, and head for the clothing and lingerie. Tim browses the selections, stopping occasionally to pull a teddy or peignoir from the rack and hand it to me. We eventually have a collection of garments and head for the dressing rooms. Each cubicle has a curtain rather than a door, and Tim tells me to go in and try on some things so he can see how they look. I enter the little room and close the curtain as best I can. It is quickly apparent the curtain is not wide enough to cover both sides of the opening. I work the drape a moment more to try and give myself as much privacy as possible, but soon give up and decide to try a black teddy first. Through the cracks on either side of the curtain I can see people moving around outside the changing area, both men and women browsing the selection of clothing and heading for the other cubicles. I quickly unbutton my blouse and then unzip the skirt, leaving me nude except for my shoes. I step into the teddy and begin to bring it up my legs when I glance through the crack and see a stranger looking back! He makes no attempt to hide the fact that he can see me dressing, and continues to size me up. I reach for the curtain to close it tightly, but realize it is useless—it's just not wide enough to cover. Moving the curtain to one side opens the other even more. I give up and finish dressing, blushing deeply as I do. I note that the teddy covers my pussy and tits, but only in a lacy, filmy way. I call out softly to Tim, "ready", and expect him to poke his head in for a look. 

Instead, Tim pulls the curtain wide open, exposing me fully to my peeper. But he's not alone. Several other men, and a couple of women, are nearby and turn to look. I start to cover my crotch and breasts, but Tim says, "Let them look. You are definitely worth looking at." I blush some more, drop my hands, and look at the floor to avoid the stares of my audience. Tim has me turn a 360 for him so he may see both the front and back, nods appreciatively and says, "that's a keeper. OK, next outfit."

I begin to pull the curtain shut again, but Tim says, "leave it open. They've seen most of you, anyways." I am blushing deeply and begin to protest, but his look cuts me short. I turn my back to the gathering crowd and pull the straps of the teddy off my shoulders, then slide the fabric down to my hips. I quickly finish the motion by pushing the garment past my ass, crouching a little to bring it down to my feet. I hear several intakes of breath as my cheeks are presented for the waiting crowd.

I quickly grab another outfit, this time a red camisole and pair of tap pants. I step into the pants with my back still to the crowd, then toss the camisole over my head. I then turn and present myself to Tim. Even though this outfit is not nearly as revealing as the first, the crowd watching the show still seem appreciative for what they are seeing. 

I slowly turn several times and with that, he says, "next, please." 

I find that I am beginning to warm a little to the idea of being the focus of the crowd's attention. I begin to pull the top off, once again with my back to the crowd, but stop just below my breasts and ask over my shoulder, "what would you like to see next?" 

"The gown," Tim replies.

I decide to tease a bit and drop the camisole back to my waist, then grab the peignoir and pull it over my current outfit. The fabric is long and flowing, and practically see-through. I turn to the crowd and cock my hip, moving my arms with a "ta-da" flourish. 

Tim smiles and says, "nice, but I think it would look better without the undergarments." 

"Fuck yeah," says my peeper. "Let's see some tits and ass, honey"

Tim smiles and says, " you heard the man."

I look down to the floor and in my best innocent voice say, "if you would like, sir."

I remove the robe, camisole and tap pants, still facing away from the crowd. I return the peignoir to my shoulders and turn to face Tim, not bothering to tie it shut. My pussy is on full display for my admirers. 

My peeper speaks up again. "Holy shit...what a body! How much to take her to my car and fuck her?" 

Tim smiles again and says, "she's not for sale...at least right now. Maybe later. However, she does have one more item to try on. Perhaps your memories of what you see tonight will help you relive your stress later. Karen, last item please."

I am shaking with relief that Tim has not sold me to another man—that is way beyond even what I had fantasized about. I quickly remove the robe and reach for the last item—a corset. The garment sits just above my hips and ends just below my tits, so I will be completely exposed to my audience. I hold the corset to my stomach, my back to the crowd, and Tim steps forward to lace it. As he completes the task, he runs his finger down the crack of my ass to my pussy, then back up again.

He leans close to my ear and says, "still wet, I see. Do you want me to give you to him? Will that satisfy your need to cum?" 

I look to the floor and shake my head no. I know, however, that this show, that being the center of attention for strange men and women, and the fact that I have sexually thrilled them has been an incredible rush to me. I have never been exposed to others, but now I realize what I've been missing. The power of having others under my spell is an incredible rush, and I think we'll have to do more of this when I this weekend is over. In the back of my mind I imagine my audience pulling their cocks out and stroking to my show, or the women reaching down to their pussies and fingering themselves. This is so slutty, and I love it! 

Tim chuckles softly and says, "too bad. In your condition, I think you'd enjoy it. But I'll honor your request for now. Let's just show them what you've got and call it even."

With that, Tim steps away from me, takes my hand, and turns me to the crowd. My tits and trimmed thatch are on display for all who wish to look. He turns me again so my ass is exposed, framed by the corset riding above it. I again raise my hands above my head in my best presentation pose. My peeper tries one more time and says, "are you sure she's not up for a little fun?" 

Tim shakes his head and says, "not tonight. Who knows about tomorrow?" He shows me a brief smile and says, "OK, you can get dressed now. Time to go."

I quickly remove the corset and throw my skirt and top back on, not bothering to close the curtain. Tim instructs me to take the garments with me and turns to walk towards the register. 

As we pass the toy section, he stops and grabs what appears to be a short dildo from a rack. It looks like he has more plans for my pussy. 

Tim pays for the items, lifting my skirt and caressing my ass while the clerk rings everything up. I feel the cool air on my cheeks and know that once again I am exposed to all watching. I enjoy this display, my moral sensibilities taking a vacation for the weekend. I love giving the bad girl in me a chance to play. 



For the Weekend Ch. 04



Eventually all of our items are bagged and we are off to the truck. Tim has barely climbed in before I am on him, rubbing his cock through his jeans. "I guess you need it really bad, huh?" he says. 

"I do," I reply.

"What do you need?"

"I need..."

"Go ahead and tell me exactly what you need."

"I need...need to cum."

"Really? How would you like to cum?"

"I need a cock in me...I need to feel you in me."

"Mmmmm, sounds good, but it will have to wait until we get back to our room. Can you wait?"

"I don't know...can you pull over and just do me here?"

"Do what?"

"Don't tease! Please finish me!"

"How would you like to be finished, my pretty little slut? I love it when women talk dirty...tell me what you need and I may be inspired to give it to you."

I'm beside myself with need and find words coming out of my mouth that I rarely use outside of our bedroom. "Please fuck my cunt until I cum, please, I need to cum! I'll suck your cock, I'll swallow you, just please make me cum!" 

"That's better, but we'll still have to wait. I promise I will make it worth your while. In the meantime, tell me—did you enjoy having those strangers looking at you? I'm sure all of the men wanted to fuck your cute little pussy, and I suspect one or two of the women wanted a shot at it, too." 

I hesitate before answering, but my arousal drives me to speak the truth. "I was scared," I reply, "but it also excited me, knowing those men found me attractive." 

"Oh, I don't think you have to worry about your looks," Tim says. "Keep working on that attitude I saw in there and you can have whoever you want. Have you ever made love to a woman?"

I again hesitate before answering, a little nervous as to where this might be leading. The closest I ever came to anything remotely Lesbian in nature was a drunken night in College with a roommate, and even that was no more than mutual nudity and each of us masturbating in our own beds. However, I have always wondered what a woman's touch would be like. 

"Not really," I answer. "But I've sometimes fantasized about it..."

"You don't say," Tim answers, but says no more. 

Another couple of minutes and we are back in the hotel parking lot. We move quickly through the lobby, Tim carrying our purchases, and we enter the elevator. As soon as the doors close, he says, "give me your shirt." I am shocked and look at him, but he just says, "quickly, before we reach our floor." Normally this would be too much for me to comply with, but the combination of my earlier fashion show and my current state of sexual arousal make me reach for the buttons and quickly undo them. I slip out of my top and hand it to him. My nipples are rock hard, both from the exposure to the air as well as my current state of excitement. 

We reach our floor and the doors slide open. Thankfully no one is waiting for the elevator and we walk to our room. 

Tim opens the door for me and lets me enter. As soon as I am in the door, I slip off my shoes and skirt and turn to wrap myself around him and kiss him, my hands reaching for his belt. I embrace his leg with my own and begin to hump my pussy against him, hoping for a quick release. He returns my kiss, running his hands over my nude back and ass, but then breaks our embrace. 

"You've done great tonight," he says, "and you've earned your orgasm. Have I earned your trust today?" 

I'm confused by this question, but answer slowly, my crotch still grinding against his thigh. "Yes, sir. I trust you."

"Good," he says. "Then let me take care of you properly." 

He goes to the bedroom and I follow, curious. Tim takes all of the pillows from the bed and stacks them in a pyramid a couple of feet from the end. He looks at me, winks and goes to the other room, to my overnight bag. 

He rummages through it a moment, then pulls out a bundle of ropes. My ropes. He must know how I love to be tied, how I love the feel of the cord against my skin, how I love the feeling of total helplessness. This is different, however. I now know why he asked me about trust. The idea of being totally helpless with this man who I did not know a day ago is incredibly frightening, but my wet pussy and my love for the feel of the ropes betray me. I hold my wrists out to him, offering them for tying. 

Tim sees this and says, "you ARE a trusting sort. Good girl! Don't worry, just say the magic words any time you want me to stop. If you are ready, undress me and get me ready to fuck you."

He sits on the bed and I kneel before him and remove his boots, taking a moment to remove his socks as well and massage the soles of his feet. 

He stands, and I stand as well to unbutton his shirt and slide it off of him, taking time to run my hands over his chest and nipples. A moment of this, and I unbuckle his belt and jeans, sliding the pants and underwear down all at once. He kicks off the crumpled clothing and I kneel again, running my hands over his beautiful cock. It is fully erect and wet with precum, no doubt the result of the last several hours of our adventures. I lick the shaft and head, trying to gather as much of his male taste and smell as possible. As I move around his hard-on, I laugh to myself—in less than 10 hours I have gone from avoiding the taste of cum to looking for it. 

Tim does not allow me much time, however, as he stops me and guides me to the mound of pillows. He has me lie on them, stomach down, and then moves a leg here and an arm there until I am in an almost crouching position, my cunt and ass raised and fully completely accessible to him. With that, he begins to tie me. 

It is quickly obvious that he is experienced with this type of game. He begins by binding my left thigh just above the knee, then continues on up the side of my leg. A few turns around my waist and then he crosses the rope across my chest between my tits. He wraps the rope around my chest above my breasts, then trails the end of the rope out to where my hands are lying on the bed above my head. He repeats the process on the other side with another piece of rope, and then binds my hands with the two ends. The effect is that while I have some movement, I am not going anywhere quickly. The ropes feel delicious against my skin—not too tight, indeed, loose enough to move just a little against my body, maybe even leave just a hint of a burn. The combination of the night's activities and the feel of the ropes has me very close to cumming without even being touched. 

With my body positioned the way it is, I cannot get a direct look at what Tim is doing behind me. Soon though, I feel a fur cuff attached to my left ankle, followed by the right. I attempt to move my legs together a little, but they are stopped short. 

"Spreader bar," he says. "Can't have you closing up on me, now can I?"

With that comes more photography from various angles, all showing my restraints and compromising position. 

After several minutes of his art project, He leaves the room again. I still can only sense, rather than see, when he is entering or leaving the room, never what he has or what he is doing. He soon returns and I feel several items dropped on the bed behind me. 

"Well," he says, "time for you to cum." With that, I hear a familiar buzzing switch on, then off. "Recognize that?" he says. "It's one of yours...an old favorite, I believe. But first, a little training for you." There is a momentary pause, then the feel of his finger on my rosebud. The touch is cold and wet, and I quickly realize he is applying lubricant to my back passage. His finger slides up and down my asscrack, then begins to work its way into me. His finger begins a fucking motion, slow and gentle. While it is a bit uncomfortable for me, I do my best not to tense up. His finger continues to probe deeper and deeper with the thrusts until the knuckles of his other fingers are meeting my asscheeks on each repetition. 

Tim pulls his finger out, gently massaging my asshole for a moment. He stops, and then there is no contact from him at all. I know he is still behind me though, doing something. I hope I am about to receive the fucking I need, but abruptly I feel something else, something larger, at my rosebud. He pushes gently, and it begins to open me wide. 

"This is called a buttplug," he says. "I bought it tonight while we were shopping. You can take it home with you, if you would like to have your husband try it out." He continues to push, slowly but firmly, and soon it is buried in me. I am grunting a little bit, still trying to get used to the feeling. 

"Try and let your body accept it," Tim says. "This is a training size, meant to get you used to having something in your ass. Here, maybe I can help you relax a bit."

With that the buzzing resumes and I feel something hard and vibrating sliding in my sopping cunt. Soon something else is tickling my clit—it's my rabbit vibe. 

He moves the vibrator in a short rocking motion, the shaft moving a little in my cunt, but the nub never leaving my. My overdue orgasm begins to build, and I attempt to close my legs around the dildo and control it with my thighs, but the spreader bar prevents that. I fuck the vibrator as hard as my restrained body will allow, and make every effort to keep my clit in contact with the vibrating tip. My cum crashes over me, my head spinning, nothing in the world mattering but those exquisite waves of pleasure pulsing through my cunt and on to all of my nerve endings. 

My orgasm begin to subside, my body wrung out from the physical pleasure, and Tim removes the vibrator from my pussy and replaces it with his own cock, slowly fucking me. I feel him playing with the buttplug a little, pulling it out a little, then gently pushing it back in. The orgasm has indeed relaxed me, and the toy filling my asshole is not nearly as uncomfortable as it was several minutes ago. It's actually become a little erotic in my post-orgasm glow. 

His cock continues to saw in and out of me at a leisurely rate. I wonder how he is able to delay his own orgasm until I remember I have made him cum twice already today. About this time, however, he stops and removes the buttplug. I wonder if my training is over now that I have cum, but this is quickly proven untrue as he moves behind me again and slides his staff through the cleft of my ass. He seems to be taking great delight in rubbing the head of his cock against my asshole. I'm certain this is not how he intends to end this, dry-humping my asscheeks. I realize he has been readying me for another way...

"I'm not sure—" I begin to stammer, but he cuts me off.

"Your ass is mine, just like the rest of your body, and I intend to use it. I've prepared you for this moment; I'm going to fuck your ass, and my hope is that you will ask for more. Try to relax and enjoy losing your virginity again."

With that he climbs on the bed behind me, kneeling over my ass, and presses the tip of his cock into my hole, spreading it open again. The buttplug has made this easier, no doubt, but it is still a bit uncomfortable accommodating my first anal fucking. He is gentle though, and pushes in slowly, letting my body adjust. His hips eventually reach my cheeks, and he withdraws, pushing back in with more force. He repeats this motion several times until he is fucking my ass just as easily as it was my cunt. I begin to become aroused again, the ropes and the submissive posture (and I must admit, the assfucking), having an effect. He continues to drill me, his hands gripping my hips and pulling himself into me. As his tempo builds, his vocalizing does as well.

"I'm fucking your ass, slut, I'm fucking it and I'm going to fill it with cum. I'm going to make sure your husband sees exactly what I did to your asshole. Do you like it, slut? Do you like being nasty like this?"

"Yes sir, please fuck me—make me your slut! I want your cum in me!"

Tim growls and strokes harder, then holds his hips tightly against my ass. I'm a virgin no more; he fills my ass with his seed. 

He shudders several times as he continues to pulse in me, then quiets. Tim climbs off of me, leaving me in my exposed position while he retrieves the camera. He takes several pictures of my filled anal opening, and then begins to slowly untie me, kissing my back and neck along the way. He pays particular attention to the spots where the rope has rubbed me, kissing and licking as if to try and soothe the sting. 

After the last rope is removed, I begin to sit up, but he kisses me long and tenderly before I can reach the sitting position. My love is reserved for one man in this world, and it is not Tim, but I do feel a sense of belonging and appreciation for the man currently lavishing me with attention. 

He sends me to the bathroom to clean up, following along. He has me bend over again and spreads lotion on my slightly abused rosebud to help soothe it, then kisses up my back to my neck, his soft manhood nestled in my crack. He hands me a washcloth, looks at his flaccid dick, and says, "clean me, my beautiful slut." I wet the washcloth and soap him down before rinsing him off as best I can. 

"Make sure you get the balls and below," he growls. 

I give his cock plenty of attention, but it is not ready to rise again—3 times in one day will have that effect, I'm sure. Eventually, I believe myself to be done, and he asks, "are you sure? Remember, it can be in your mouth at any time." I do one more check and pronounce myself sure. He chuckles and says, "good enough. Let's get some sleep. I've got a busy day planned for tomorrow." What could be busier than today, I wonder?

We sleep in the spoon position, his cock nestled in the cleft of my ass and his hand on my breast. It's a strange experience actually sleeping with someone other than the man I married, and it takes me a while to fall asleep.



For the Weekend Ch. 05



We sleep well into the next morning. Tim keeps me close to him throughout the night, his body wrapped around mine. I wake and go to use the bathroom. Tim comes in as I am finishing, then rejoins me in bed when he is done. He cuddles me for a moment, then rolls on his back. 

"Time to start our day," he says. "In the truck last night you said you'd swallow my cum. I'm going to take you up on that." 

I roll on to my side and begin running my hands up and down his nude form, avoiding his most sensitive areas, instead just teasing the skin around them. I slowly begin to press harder into his muscles, massaging and tweaking the tissue underneath. He sighs and groans a bit, letting me know I am hitting the right spots. Eventually my efforts take me closer and closer to his midsection, making his cock harden just a bit without even touching it. Closer and closer I get to his pole, brushing a finger over the head, or a palm over his balls. I continue to knead his legs, contrasting the roughness of that motion with the light touches over his manhood. I continue on down his legs, working as I go, until I reach his feet. I make sure to straddle his legs so he may see my upturned ass and pussy and feel my crotch as I rub up and down his thigh, getting my clit worked up in the process. I massage his feet for a bit, and then begin to suck his toes.

He jerks a bit and laughs. "Are you ticklish?" I ask with a bit of sass in my voice.

"I am," he says, "but you working on my toes reminds me of what you are able to do to my cock. Why don't you give it the same treatment?"

I swing my ass away from him and begin to kiss my way back up his legs. When I reach the junction of his legs, I spread them open a bit, lie between them, and begin to tongue his sac and the sensitive skin beneath it. My tongue swirls and paints broad and narrow strokes wherever I can reach. His cock is soon completely hard and I reposition myself so my head is on his stomach, and begin to work on his rod again. I alternate light kisses along the length with an occasional lick of his slit, always caressing his balls and taint with my hand. I begin to slip the head of his cock in my mouth, then go back to kissing and licking his length. Gradually the depth to which I take his head begins to deepen, and eventually I am slowly bobbing up and down on his pole. I continue for several minutes, only occasionally removing my mouth to take the edge off his senses. Each time I return to his hardness, his thrusting becomes a little more pronounced. I return for a final time, and I definitely get the feeling that he is fucking my mouth. He places his hand on the side of my head and gently presses down, trapping me against his stomach. I let it happen, and soon I am rewarded with a mouthful of his cum. My newfound fascination for it allows me to savor for a bit before I let his entire load slide down my throat, finding the taste not unpleasant. His thrusting stops and his breathing begins to calm a bit and I continue to nurse his cock, cleaning it as best I can. 

Tim runs his fingers through my hair and says, "that was very good. You'll probably be thankful you took care of that when you did." I'm not sure how to take that comment, but decide it probably can't be good. 

With that, he picks up the phone, looks at me, and asks, "want something more filling than my cum?" 

I look at him quizzically and he clarifies. "Want some breakfast?"

I get it now. "Just a pastry and some coffee, sir," I reply. 

With that, Tim dials Room Service and orders our food. A remarkably short time later (Tim was right about the level of service for the weekend), there is a knock on the door. I look to Tim, hoping he will allow me to disappear for a moment, but I know better. I open the door and see that it is our bellhop from the night before, pushing a service cart before him. He sees me and blushes as he smiles, getting a good look at my nude body before he looks ahead and steers the trolley into the room. I do my best to stay behind him, trying to preserve my modesty. A part of me wants to show myself to him, though. I find I am growing a little excited by the idea this young man might find me attractive. I take a moment to study him. A little taller than me, thin and wiry like many young men his age, with a mop of blond hair atop his head. 

Tim has gotten himself a robe and takes the receipt from the young man, signing it.

"Nice view, huh? What's your name?" Tim asks.

"James, sir."

"You're a student, I take it?"

Yes sir, sophomore at Michigan State." 

"Have you ever seen a nude woman in the flesh before?"

"Not like this, no."

"Like what you see? She's pretty, isn't she?"

James mumbles a "yes sir", glances at me, and looks back at the cart. 

Tim chuckles a little bit, and becomes more blunt. "Kinda gives you ideas, huh? Have you ever had a woman?"

My heart leaps into my mouth—is Tim about to offer me to him? 

James hesitates before answering. I think his mind is weighing out the costs and benefits of a correct answer, and what the correct answer might be. "Twice, I was pretty drunk both times." 

"James, I wonder if you'd like to help me with a bit of a social experiment I'm conducting."

"Possibly, sir. How can I help you?" 

"Well, the beautiful lady you are trying to sneak peeks at—" Tim has caught the young bellhop trying to get a better look at me standing behind him—"is named Karen. I have been seeing what methods and practices are best for changing a shy, sexually conservative housewife and mother into a sexually submissive MILF. Do you know what a MILF is?"

"Yes, sir. A Mother I'd Like to—" he hesitates before finishing the sentence, unsure if the answer is proper language for an employee to use with a guest—"fuck."

"That's right. Part of what I'm trying to prove is that I can convince a fine upstanding woman like this to expose her secret side—her slut side to others. 

What I would like her to do is to bring out that slut side in a way that will make you excited enough to come. However, unless I miss my guess, given your age and experience she could make you pop right now with one touch. So, what I would like her to do is put on a show for both you and I. She can do anything she thinks you might like to see, but she cannot touch either you or me. If you feel the need, you can masturbate while watching her. I intend to do the same. If you come before me, you will be considered for future experiments, and she will be rewarded. If I come before you, she'll be punished. Are you interested?"

"I've never done anything freaky, sir. I'm not gay," James replies defensively.

"Neither am I. I'm not going to touch you, and I certainly don't want you to touch me. I just want to see how well she can excite someone who has never seen her in action before, and I want to give her some incentive to succeed." 

"What do you mean by punish? Are you into whips and chains, or something?" 

Tim laughs in response. "No, nothing like that. I discovered last night that there are some things she would not rather do—" with that, he gave me a knowing look—"and she might have to do them if she fails to satisfy you. So, are you in?"

James thinks for a moment. "Can I leave my clothes on and just watch?"

"Up to you, but that might make her job a little harder, and might make you uncomfortable."

"I'd kinda like to start that way." 

"As I said, up to you. Karen, why don't you go to the bedroom and get your toy. I'll call you when we're ready out here."

I retreat to the bedroom, knowing that James is watching my ass all the way. I find my toy and sit on the edge of the bed, the various parts of my psyche arguing with each other. My modesty says this is going too far, and that I should use the code phrase to end this now. My sexual self is in overdrive, making me realize how much I am enjoying this exhibitionist side of me, the ability to make men lust after me. The submissive side is also persuasive, appealing to a side of me that has lain hidden for so long, to submit willingly to my master. The exhibitionist and submissive are drowning out my modesty when I am summoned. I return to the sitting room to find the coffee table moved off to one side and James sitting on the couch, still clothed and still obviously nervous. Tim has taken the easy chair, his legs crossed at the ankles on the Ottoman, robe still loosely tied about his waist. 

I do not have a plan on how to get James to loosen up, but I have to believe that Tim is serious about taking me back to the Porn Shop if I do not. I would really rather not be "forced" into giving myself to the man who tried to buy me last night, so I begin with things I think would turn a young man on. 

"C'mon James," I say as seductively as I can manage, "I'd love to see what you look like. Would you like to see more of me?" Before he can answer, I walk to the couch and put my left foot on the arm, putting my pussy before his eyes and opening myself up. I look over at Tim and he has opened his robe, idly stroking his half-hard member. James notices this as well, but his attention comes right back to my crotch. I begin to move my hips in a gentle rocking motion while running my hands over my breasts, squeezing them and flicking the nipples a bit before moving lower, moving my hands in circles over my stomach, coming ever closer to my thatch. I trace my fingers along my pussy lips, bringing the wetness to my stomach and leaving patterns for him to see. All the while I continue to talk, trying to get this young man to the point of release. 

"I'd love to see your cock, to see how hard you are...I love the look of a hard cock, all wet and ready to fuck me...please, let me see it." 

James is tracing lines over the bulge in his slacks without even knowing it. He takes another look at Tim, sees him doing the same to his exposed manhood, and gives in. He quickly unhooks his belt, unbuttons and unzips his pants, and lifts his ass off the couch to pull them down. They pool around his knees, and his cock is exposed. 

I look on and lick my lips for him to see. Hi tool is about 6" long and thin, poking out from a bed of blond pubic hair. I smile, then say, "it's beautiful. I bet that would feel so good sliding in and out of my pussy. Would you like to see what it would look like?"

James nods and I move back to the coffee table, retrieve my vibrator, and lie on the floor in front of James. I spread my legs wide and begin to slide the rabbit into my cunt, letting him see my lips grasp and pull at the vibrator and as I begin to fuck myself with it, slowly sliding it in and out, all the while talking to James. 

"Can you imagine this is your cock in me? Would you fuck me harder, or would you just enjoy the feeling of my wet pussy squeezing you?"

James is grasping his cock, his hand moving faster and faster up and down it's length. Hi eyes are glued to my crotch, watching his faux cock penetrate me. His pace continues to quicken, and it is obvious he is ready to let loose.

"Would you cum inside me James? Would you push hard against my cunt, getting as deep as you could? Will you show me your cum now?"

He breathing becomes strained and a white jet erupts from his rod. Spurt after spurt jumps, then lands on his cock and thighs. I stop what I am doing and watch, fascinated by the spectacle. My inner slut is proud of the fact that I was able to turn this young man on enough to bring himself to orgasm. 

He eventually finishes and sits there, seemingly embarrassed by what just happened and unsure what to do next. Tim steps in and says, "well done, Karen will be rewarded for that performance. In the meantime, would you clean James up, please?"

I begin to move towards him, but Tim says "ah-ah, no touching." I am confused on how to clean him if I can't touch him, but an idea hits me. I go to the bathroom, run a washcloth under some hot water, then return to James. I kneel in front of him and being running the washcloth over his thighs and semi-hard cock, treating his body as if it were the most precious thing on earth. My thoughts turn to disobeying Tim and taking him in my mouth, but realize a punishment would be sure to follow. My cloth-covered hand spends a significant amount of time on his thighs, stomach and package, gently wiping and teasing. I look over at Tim and he smiles. 

"You're sexy and a problem-solver too, I see. I guess you are technically not touching him...would you agree James?"

James smiles and says, "no sir, I think this is just fine." 

I finish by blowing on his wet cock to dry him, and then return the washcloth to the bathroom. Even so soon after his orgasm, his manhood is beginning to harden.

When I come back out, James is rearranging his clothing to get back to work. He looks at me, but averts his eyes again, a shy smile flashing across his lips. 

Well James, what is your work schedule for the rest of the weekend?" Tim asks.

"I'm on until 5 this afternoon, sir, and then 8am to 5pm tomorrow."

Excellent," Tim says. "We will probably have need of you again. Karen, could you let our guest out, please?"

I go to the door and open it, hoping that no one (or maybe, hoping that someone is) in the hall. James takes his leave, stealing glances at me on the way out, probably still somewhat embarrassed by our recent performances for each other.



For the Weekend Ch. 06



Tim and I sit on the floor by the coffee table in the living room and eat the breakfast brought by James. I have become so used to my situation that I am hardly aware that I am completely naked in front of a man I barely knew 24 hours ago. I do notice that Tim's robe has come partly open, and I can see his half-hard member and heavy balls as he leans back, supporting his body on one elbow. My early morning blowjob, along with my performance for the young bellboy, has gotten me aroused again, and my mind wanders to the thought of Tim between my outstretched legs, driving his hard cock into me. 

I'm brought back to the present by Tim's voice. "Aren't you glad you sucked me off this morning? Kind of gave James a head start on me, don't you think?"

I catch his reference to this morning's "experiment" and ask "would you really have brought me back to the store, sir?" A part of me wants him to say no, but a growing part is starting to ask the question, "what if?"

"Perhaps," he says. "Or maybe a different punishment. But I would have had to punish you if you had not gotten our friend to perform as expected. Otherwise, my word and my authority would not carry as much weight. But you did as asked, and you're due a reward. Are you curious what it might be? Do you have any requests?"

I think for a moment. So much has happened to me in the past 24 hours that I would never have believed I could be a part of prior to this weekend. So many of my fantasies have already been explored, I could not hope to ask for any of the others. Or could I? My good girl and bad girl sides are at it again, each arguing their case for caution or pleasure, respectively. This time the good girl wins out, and I just say, "no sir, no requests. Whatever you feel is a good reward." 

"Well," Tim replies. "I do have something in mind that I think you'll enjoy. Finish your breakfast and we'll take a shower, then go out for a bit." 

I take the last bite of my croissant and then a sip of coffee, and announce, "ready sir."

He gets up and goes to the bathroom to start the shower. I rise as well, putting our plates back on the trolley and wiping down the coffee table with a napkin. Even at my sluttiest, the wife and mother in me will not be denied! I finish and look to see him exiting the bathroom, his robe removed. His nakedness catches me by surprise for a brief moment, and I admire the male form that is my master. I watch him as he busies himself by the sink, the way his legs jut from his torso, well-muscled thighs and calves, and a beautiful ass. He turns to walk towards me, his stride casual and confident, and I take in his masculine chest and abdomen before taking note of his cock and balls and how they swing in rhythm from one thigh to the other. Even flaccid as he is now, his package is impressive to me. 

He reaches for me and takes me in his arms, kissing me while lightly running his hands over my back and down to my ass. We cuddle for a moment, then he breaks our clinch and turns to head for the shower. I follow, and wait for him to enter. Given my task yesterday, I understand I am to bathe him before taking care of myself. He steps in the tub, then gently takes my hand and pulls me in with him. Tim moves out of the stream of water and pulls me by the waist into the spot he has just vacated. I begin to reach for the soap to begin his cleaning, but he beats me to it and begins to lather his hands. Once satisfied, he runs his soaped hands over my shoulders and neck, both sudsing and massaging me. The feeling is heavenly. The eroticism of both the morning and the moment have me in a trance, just standing there and softly moaning while his hands do their magic. 

He stops for a moment and relathers, then directs me to turn around. I do as I'm told, and those hands begin their work on my back, first high up, then working lower. Tim reaches my asscheeks and begins his work on them, cleaning, caressing, kneading at various times. His fingers work their way into my crack and make sure I'm clean from the top of my cleft down to where it ends underneath me. He pays particular attention to my rosebud, soaping and pushing his finger in just a bit. "Is it at all tender?" he asks.

"Just a little," I respond truthfully, "but it's feeling better already." The last part is not quite the truth, but I do not want to disappoint him. 

He grunts his approval, then goes back for more soap and begins to work down each leg. He continues his good work, alternating between a massaging and caressing stroke. When he finishes, he reaches for the bottle of shampoo and after squirting a bit on me, begins to work his fingers into my hair. I'm in heaven from the feeling of his digits gently scratching my scalp. 

Too soon he finishes and says, "rinse." I close my eyes and duck my head back under the showerhead, letting the hot water run over me, rinsing away the shampoo and any remains of his soaping. I move forward a bit to get my head out of the spray and bump into him. I open my eyes quickly and see his face less than a foot away, smirking at me. His erect cock is rubbing against my tummy, obviously looking for some nice dark place to hide. 

I smile back, then ask, "I bet you didn't wash my pussy just because you were going to mess it up again, right sir?" 

He laughs, then says, "I like the way you think, but not this time. I don't want to overexcite you before your reward. I'm willing to bet washing you there right now would send you over the edge".

I'm momentarily confused, then ask slowly, "I thought this was my reward...?"

"I'm glad you're easily satisfied, but no, I have something else in mind. We'll be going out. And you should wash me now so we aren't late." 

We switch positions in the shower so he is now under the spray and I begin to bathe him, soaping up his back and scrubbing. I plan on taking my time, but he moves me forward, anxious to be finished. I think I know what he is expecting, and so when he turns to face me, I make quick work of his neck and chest and then kneel, bringing my mouth to his waiting cudgel. 

"Shall I make you cum, sir?" knowing what the answer will be and beginning to put his cockhead in my mouth. 

"No, thank you," he says. "I think I'd like to build up a little for later. For now, a quick cleaning with your mouth will do."

I slide his cock in my mouth as he has directed and bob slowly up and down several times, then move on to his balls. I take each one in my mouth individually and run my tongue over them lightly, then finish by lifting them and running my tongue from underneath his sack up to where it joins his staff. 

He groans, then says, "enough, you sexy little bitch. You're going to make me cum without even trying." I finish by washing his legs in a more conventional manner, and he shuts off the water. 

We towel off and take care of shaving, makeup, and toothbrushing, then move to the bedroom. Tim tells me to wait and goes to my bag. He comes back with one of my sundresses and a pair of sandals. It is demure enough, and I breathe a sigh of relief that I will not be so exposed in broad daylight, but then realize there is still no underwear to be found. 

He lays them on the bed and begins to pull some clothes out of his own bag, then looks at me and realizes I have not put the dress on yet, and am standing there, just looking at him. He smiles and says, "you learn quickly. You may get dressed now."

Dressing takes all of one minute, as all that is required is to pull the dress over my head and slip on my sandals. The dress is one I have worn many times, and I know that it does not show much—unless I am not wearing a bra. I will have to be careful about bending over too much. 

Tim looks me over, says, "ready?" and heads for the door. We ride the elevator in silence, my mind racing. He said it was a reward, but what kind? I have a bad feeling about this, but know it is not my place to ask questions. 

We reach the lobby and walk through on our way to his truck. I see James by the door as he sees us. He smiles but does not turn away, a knowing look on his face. I'm betting he has had time to process the morning's events and is hoping for more. 

He holds the door for us and says to Tim, "thank you, sir. Always good to see you," then looks at me and finishes. "And her." Tim just smiles, nods and leads me to his vehicle.



For the Weekend Ch. 07



(Author's Note:

To all who have sent me praise and encouragement, I thank you! Your notes--and my husband's gentle prodding—keep me posting these. 

For those who did not read the first chapter of this series, these stories are a result of a game my husband and I play when he travels. I write a chapter before he leaves and send it along with him. He holds off reading what I have written until he is ready to "discuss" it. His review of my story, along with both of us talking about where it will go next, leads to some pretty interesting phone sex when we can't be together. Another trip out of town, another story based on what we fantasized about on his last trip. 

The chapters are a collaboration—some of the situations are his fantasy which I try to write for his maximum pleasure, some are my fantasies which I write for mine. I will leave it to the reader to decide as to whose fantasies are whose.

For those who wish to leave constructive negative criticism regarding my writing style, I welcome it. I would ask that perhaps you point me towards writing you feel is of good quality so I might learn from your examples. If you wish to leave negative comments regarding the story content, feel free, but they will most likely be ignored, as the subject matter is a matter of taste, and what suits my tastes obviously does not suit yours—we won't be changing each other's minds!)



Chapter 7

We drive a short distance towards the edge of town, where Tim pulls into the parking lot of an upscale office building. He opens my door and offers his hand to assist me down from the truck. 

Once I'm on solid ground, he puts his arm around my shoulder and we stroll to the entrance. Inside the building, he steers us to a bank of elevators and we enter an open car. He pushes the button for the 6th floor, and off we go. I'm even more mystified as to my reward. What good can be waiting me in an office building? The car stops, the doors open, and we walk a short ways down the hall to a suite of offices. The sign on the door reads "Body Connection, LLC, Andrea Reynolds, CMT". CMT? The abbreviation sounds familiar, but I can't come up with the meaning. What exactly does Andrea Reynolds, CMT at Body Connection do? 

We enter, and I quickly make the connection. Andrea Reynolds, Certified Massage Therapist. Am I here for a massage? I have had several in my life, and while I enjoy them, I become very apprehensive about this one. My body is has not yet had a chance to release from the day's events, and I'm sexually vibrating. I fear the touch—professional, yet still a touch-- of another will only be torture until Tim can give me a much-needed orgasm. 

Tim gives the receptionist my name, and we are shown to a room. It is decorated nicely in a very calming manner with very soft pastel tones, and the lights dimmed to create a relaxed atmosphere. The smell of jasmine is in the air, and the sounds of a country field—crickets and songbirds—is playing softly in the background. At the center of the room is a massage table, itself not remarkable, but the faux-fur padding on the top is. I love the feel of the sheepskin rug we have at home on my naked body, and this looks every bit as sensuous. Yet I have never seen one used on a massage table before. 

Tim puts his hand on my shoulder and I tense. "You are supposed to be relaxed here," he says, "why so nervous? I know you've had massages before."

"I have," I reply, "but I'm somewhat keyed up from this morning—"

"You mean you need to cum, right?" he says with a slight smile.

"I'm afraid this will only put me more on edge..."

"Don't worry," he says. "This will only enhance the pleasure later for you. After this, your orgasm will be absolutely explosive, I promise."

Just then the door opens and in walks a woman I can only assume is Andrea. She is in her mid-30s, about 6 feet tall, with a pretty smile. Her blond hair is tied in a ponytail, and she is dressed in a flower-print shift. The garment shows the slimness of her frame, and does not hide her well-defined arms. I also notice it cannot hide her breasts, C cup and unencumbered by a bra, if my guess is right. I see she has a wedding ring on her finger. 

"Tim!" Andrea says. "So nice to see you again."

"Hi Andrea," he replies. "Great to see you, too." They hug, and then Tim introduces me. "I'd like you to meet Karen. She's your client today. A massage by your gifted hands is her reward for a job well done so far." I blush and look at the floor at the reference to my reward. I'm unsure how much he is going to reveal about the jobs I've been doing. 

She reaches to shake my hand, and I respond. Her hand is warm and very strong, as a masseuse's would be. She towers over my 5' 4" frame, indeed, she even has Tim beat by a couple of inches. 

"Excellent," she says. Do you have any special requests for your reward?"

"I'm sorry," I reply, "I'm not sure what kind of requests there are."

"Any types of massage you like? Any areas you want worked on?"

I look down at the floor again and shake my head no, too nervous to answer. 

She smiles again and says, "not to worry. I'll give you the special. I think you'll like it."

Andrea turns to Tim and asks with a smirk, "are you staying to watch, you dirty old man?" 

"Actually, I have an errand or two to run. I'll leave her in your capable hands and come pick her up in a while." 

I panic for a moment, then regain my composure. It's just a normal massage, no big deal, I've done this before. I never had anyone in the room on those occasions either. This will be fine. A little stressful trying not to orgasm from a professional's touch, but fine. The fact that Tim won't be here probably means this is all above board. 

"Well then, I'll get everything ready. Karen, if you'll get undressed, please..." she says.

I wait for her to leave the room so I may undress and get under the towel, but I notice that she is not leaving and there is no towel. I begin to ask for a covering when Tim leans over to give me a kiss on the cheek and says in a low voice, " you are to do everything she asks, do you understand?"

"Yes sir," I reply, and slip off my sandals. He leaves the room, and I look at Andrea, waiting for her to allow me my modesty. She looks back, a bemused smile on her face. 

"C'mon now, I can't make you feel good if you have that dress on. You wouldn't want me to tell Tim you disobeyed me, would you?" 

A smile spreads on her lips as I realize she is in on the game. Somehow, she knows what I am to Tim! I take a deep breath and pull the dress over my head, exposing myself to this Amazon.

"You can put your dress on that chair over there, then get on the table, face down."

I can feel her eyes on me as I do as I'm told, going to the chair then climbing on the table and putting my face in the padded donut at the end. My skin revels in the feel of the sheepskin against by body, but I am too distracted to take much mental pleasure in the physical aspect.

"You're very pretty," she says. "So petite."

While I lie there awaiting her touch, my mind continues to search for answers. Maybe Tim is having her test me. He would never think me a Lesbian, would he? Maybe he just wants to see what I will do. However, I have no answer yet for what my action might be. 

I hear her moving behind me, the sounds of hands being wetly rubbed together with oil. I feel the drip of a warm liquid from the base of my spine up to my neck, and then her hands are on me, gently rubbing the oil into my shoulders. Her touch is gentle, yet firm, giving my skin a chance to adjust to the panopoly of feelings bombarding me. Slowly her rubbing motion becomes more firm, more of a kneading, as she works into the muscles of my shoulders and lower neck. 

I have never had a woman touch me in a sexual way, and while I cannot imagine her current efforts as anything but professional, her hands along with my current state of excitement have me imagining what-if scenarios.

Andrea continues to push deeply into my shoulder muscles, but soon she is moving lower, her hands lightly running down my spine, and then more firmly up the sides of my back. She works the oil she had dripped on me earlier into my skin, her hands always gliding lightly down my spine and then pushing back up each side. 

She ends her upstroke a little lower down my back each time, eventually concentrating on the base of my spine. My hips and lower back receive a firm workout, her hands working deeply into the flesh here. The dip in my sides above my hipbones is a sensitive area for me, and I feel myself getting a little moister each time she works this area.

Just when I am finding it hard to keep my hips from lifting to meet her touch, she stops and I can hear her move away. A moment later and I again feel the drip of oil on each of my asscheeks and then down my legs. She paints a giant U on me from one ankle, up to the cleft of my ass, and then down the other leg. I hear her put the bottle down, and then without warning her finger pushes past my thighs and down to my taint, then moves up through my cleft, over my asshole, and on up to the base of my spine. I jump at the unexpected touch and she apologizes, saying "sorry, some of the oil dripped down your ass. Just wanted to make sure I got it all." 

I squeak out a muffled "it's ok," through the hole in the facerest and find myself almost wishing she would make another pass at the oil. 

Instead she begins working on my asscheeks, first with feathery touches, then massaging and kneading harder. Soon she is pushing and pulling my ass with such force that I'm certain my asshole is winking at her with each stroke, and my wet jewel below is frequently on display. 

Eventually she moves down my right leg, reaching down my inner thigh to bring back the oil that has dripped there. The side of her hand brushes my pussy once, twice, a third time, and I'm increasingly certain these touches are no accident. Is it possible Tim left instructions to excite me further before he returns to take me away and give me a good fucking? Regardless, she must have felt the moisture on my engorged lips and knows of my arousal. Will she take it the wrong way and perhaps be offended? 

Andrea continues to massage my thigh and calf using the same strokes she has used on the rest of my body. She works down my leg, touching lightly the firmly, moving away from my pussy. She soon reaches my feet and works her thumb and fingers into each on in turn. She's hitting all of my pressure points, and it feels heavenly.

She soon finishes with my feet and moves to my left side and repeats her attention to my thigh. Once again her hand dips to brush my lips once, twice, a third time. I am certain this is no mistake! She repeats her strokes on my leg in a very tender yet firm manner. I have lost track of time and have no idea how long she has been at this, but too soon she stops and says in a quiet voice, "OK, turn over when you feel up to it. I'm going to get some more oil ready for you." 

I gather my courage and roll over on the table, the back of my head now resting in the face rest. 

My nipples are almost painfully erect and I am a little worried my wetness will make a wet patch on the fur I am on. I can hear Andrea somewhere near my head, but I can't see her. I close my eyes and wait for her return, resisting an urge to quickly tweak my clit while she is (hopefully) not looking. 

I feel her presence near my head. "I can smell your excitement from across the room," she says softly. My eyes pop open in surprise, and there she is, standing above my head, looking down on me. It is not where she is standing that surprises me, though. It is that she is nude. 

I am looking up at this woman towering above me, the view of her face partially obscured by two beautiful mounds jutting proudly from her chest. 

"Tim told me about your arrangement with him when he set this appointment up," she says in the same soft yet authoritative voice. "And I also know the secret code. He left you in my charge, and I have a desire to give you great pleasure. Just do as I say and we'll make each other very happy." With that she places her oil-slicked hands on the skin above my breasts and begins to stroke lightly, covering me with slickness. Her hands move up to my neck and ears before moving back down to the top of my chest, turning circles in the flesh just above the spot where my tits begin to rise. She then works her way back up along my neck to my earlobes and begins running her fingers along them, a very light touch. My ears have always been one of my most erogenous spots and her touch makes my body hum with a desire for release. Any nervousness I felt about a woman touching me is gone—I want her to make me cum as hard as I can! 

I begin to moan softly and Andrea takes this as a sign to continue her exploration of me. Her hands leave my earlobes and travel back down along my neck to my chest again. However, this time her hands do not stop, but continue along to the sides of my breasts, gently rounding them and moving into the valley between them. 

"I love your tits," she says. "I love how firm they are. Bigger ones start to sag, but I think little ones like yours will stay perky for quite some time, and they are beautiful to look at." 

All the while her hands are moving on the sides of my breasts, caressing them, getting closer and closer to my nipples. My buds are fully erect and screaming to be played with.

Suddenly Andrea grabs both tits and steps forward, her crotch now in contact with the top of my head. It is obvious her excitement is building as well, as she loosens her grip on my tits and begins to gently play with the nipples while her pubic area grinds on my hair. My hands desperately want to touch flesh, any flesh, and so I reach behind me and grab her ass to pull her closer. Her height and the height of the table combine to prevent her from moving any farther forward, but it is just right for her to rock her clit on me. 

Andrea's hands continue to move down my stomach, always returning to my breasts, but moving farther and farther down my midsection. As her hands travel closer and closer to my sex, she bends more at the waist to reach, dangling her tits above me. The sight is incredibly arousing. Her tits swing gently as her hands move, inviting me to touch them. My own hands leave her ass and grab her swinging orbs, subtlety and hesitancy forgotten. I take them firmly and weigh them, my first feel of another woman's breasts. She moans softly and continues to work towards my crotch. 

She stops short before she actually reaches my thighs and moves to my side, most likely to give herself more reach to get to where she plans to go next. I reluctantly let go of her tits to avoid twisting them. I'm not upset she's moving closer to where I need the most attention, though. 

Her hands pick up where they left off, gently turning circles just above my mons, with occasional visits to my tits and thighs. With each visit to my legs, I open myself a little wider to her, hoping her fingers will find their way to my very wet pussy. After several trips, my legs are spread as wide as I can make them on the table, even pulling my feet up a bit to give her a wider target. She begins to spend more time on the lower half of my body, and she seems to be getting the hint my spread legs give, albeit slowly. She strokes my inner thighs, bending over me as her hands work ever closer to my cunt. Her palm settles on my clit, and she applies pressure as her finger finds its way into the valley between my inner and outer lips. I start to grind my pussy against her palm, rubbing my clit against the pressure and trying to get that finger into my hole in a come-hither motion, when she stops and removes her hand. I cry out in frustration—I was so close!—but she moves away and stands by a sheepskin rug on the floor that appears to match the covering of her table. 

"Come here and lie down," she commands. I don't hesitate and lie down at her feet, begging her to finish me. "Quiet," she says. "You'll get your release, don't worry. I've never left anyone hanging who didn't deserve it. Do you think you deserve it?" I begin to babble my reply, how I've done everything Tim has asked, how much I love the feel of her touch, but she ignores me and instead kneels at the top of my head. She bends over me and gently begins kissing my forehead, almost a gentle brushing of her lips against my skin, and continues down to my eyelids, and then the top of my nose. Her next stop is my mouth, and I share my first kiss with a woman. So different from a man, the lips so soft, her tongue gently probing like a finger in my pussy, not like a cock thrusting.

Too soon she breaks the kiss and continues down my chin and neck, gently brushing her lips and tongue against my skin as she goes. She reaches the valley of my breasts and makes detours to each nipple, gently licking and biting my erect buds. She continues on lower, always kissing, always brushing, and soon the top of her chest is at my mouth, and I happily return the favor, kissing and licking her, noting the sheen of sweat on her skin. I realize I'm covered in sweat as well, making for a slick surface as Andrea works her way ever lower. Her lips are then at my navel, and my face is braced by her tits. I turn to lick as best I can at her nipples, but the size of her breasts makes it difficult to reach the sensitive tips. I content myself to kiss the sides of her breasts. 

Her kissing does not stop until she reaches the thin patch of hair above my cunt, her tummy pressing lightly on my face. Her lips leave my mons, and I raise my hips in protest, trying to force my pussy up to her tongue. She does not return to taste, but instead says, "do you think you're deserving?" 

"Yes! Please..." I cry, my voice muffled by her torso above me. 

"I think you do," she says softly, "but I get to go first..." And with that she brings her pussy to my lips and sits up, forcing her cunt down on my mouth. She is supporting enough of her own weight to avoid suffocating me, but it is clear I am not going anywhere. 

Two days ago I would have never imagined I would be eating another woman, but now, I begin to use my tongue with gusto, anxious to have her return the favor. The taste is not unknown to me, having sucked one—no, two, now—cocks that have been in me, but it seems a little different when it comes from another woman, more forbidden. I try to find the spots that thrill me most when there is a tongue on my pussy. Her position and weight make it more difficult than I would have imagined, but Andrea seems to sense this and shifts her weight to direct me to the areas she prefers. 

Her hands continue their dance on my tits and stomach, lightly scratching and stroking. My hips are bucking involuntarily at an imaginary lover, hoping that my cunt comes in contact with something solid to help relieve its need. 

"Yes, that's it," she coos. "Eat my cunt...I'm going to ride your tongue until I come all you're your face...oh, that's so good...I'm going to drown you..."

Her hips begin a rocking motion, her clit rubbing against my chin. Her movements become more urgent and her breathing heavier as she begins a rhythmic chant.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-FUCKFUCKFUCK...aaaaaahhHHH!!!"

As promised, her orgasm flows freely into my mouth and over my face. I am at first tempted to hold the fluid and spit it out when I am free of her thighs, but decide it is far naughtier to accept what I have been given and do my best to swallow what I have collected. I am amazed that her strength has been such that she has been able to keep herself from collapsing on my face even during her orgasm, and realize my initial evaluation of her as an Amazon Warrior was probably correct. 

She continues to rock back and forth for several minutes while I tentatively explore her folds with my tongue. I know how sensitive I am after an orgasm and do not wish to overstimulate her, but she seems to welcome my explorations. I continue to gently lick her while she shudders through several smaller tremors, and then she exhales loudly and falls off me, landing on her side, her breasts shaking seductively as she lands. I fear she is going to be out of it for a while and reach for my cunt to relieve my need, but she sees me and gently grabs my hand. 




For the Weekend Ch. 07



"Don't," she commands. "I think you're deserving." She sits up, smiles, and reaches for my face, gently wiping away her moisture. 

As her strokes become more of a caress, my hips begin twitching again. This seems to remind her of my desire, and she turns herself to lay down next to me, her feet towards my head, and her head even with my crotch. She kisses my inner thigh, then pulls me over on top of her. Even if I were to fight, which I have absolutely no desire to do, my strength is no match for hers, and she positions me so my cunt is over her lips. Her hands prop me up by the breasts, and I am replicating the position she came in shortly before. Her tongue quickly finds the most sensitive spots around my clit and my long-delayed orgasm takes off quickly. I grab at her breasts more as a means of support and explode on her mouth. The sensation of doing something so taboo at the hands of someone experienced in this kind of love gives me an orgasm unlike any I have had before. I am dimly aware that I am mashing my cunt into her face and screaming, every nerve in my body on overload, the endorphins reaching every spot in my body. She seems to understand my need to not be overstimulated, and she is content to let me rock my pussy on her. I go through the same aftershocks she experienced, each wave delicious, but a little softer than the one before. I soon have no strength to remain perched on Andrea and repeat her move of falling over. Give how I feel, I am amazed she was able to recover as quickly as she did to take care of me. 

I lay there, having no desire to move, just awash in the feelings of post-orgasmic bliss. Andrea raises herself on one elbow and smiles at me, then gets up to retrieve a blanket to cover me with. She moves to a refrigerator and removes two bottled waters. Returning to me, she sets one of the bottles next to me, opens the other, and lays next to me. Her hand works under the blanket, gently stroking me, much as Rich does after a long sex session. 

I slowly recover some strength and turn to face her.

She smiles, then speaks. "Tim said that was your first time with a woman. I was afraid you would panic and not go through with it."

I smile back. "I had my doubts," I say. "Once I figured out you knew what Tim was up to, I figured I had no choice." 

She chuckles, then says, "well, pretending you were forced is one way to justify it. I think you enjoyed it."

My turn to chuckle. "I did. I hope I wasn't too much the blushing virgin. If you don't mind me asking, how do you know Tim? Given what he told you about me, I hope he knows you well."

Andrea laughs, then says, "Tim and my husband are very good friends. They share everything. I get included in that." The way she says this, I wonder if there is more to the statement than she lets on.

"So, your husband knows that you like..."

"Women? Absolutely. We have a great relationship. I like men, but the feel of a woman is a wonderful change of pace sometimes, wouldn't you agree? My husband has no problem with that whatsoever. He gets to reap the benefits of it when I get home."

I am about to ask her about her more about her marriage when there is a soft knock on the door. My modesty clicks in and I panic, thinking I am about to be seen with a naked woman, when Tim pokes his head in. 

"It looks like you had a good time," he says. "Should I come back later?"

Andrea gets up, completely at ease with her nudity, and walks to over to Tim. She kisses him on the cheek and says, "she was delicious—first-timers are just so much fun, and I'd love to take another ride with her, but I think she'll be needing a hard cock before too long." With that, she begins to put away her massage oils, indicating my appointment is over. 

Tim smiles and says, "you're probably right. We'll be going now. Karen, you should thank Andrea for her time."

I walk over to her, unsure what the proper form of goodbye is for two women who have just made love, but she removes any doubt and kisses me, running her hands over my body while our lips are locked. "I'm sure I'll see you soon," she says with a half-smile after we break our kiss. 

I reach for my dress, pull it over my head, and slip my shoes on. Tim has a scowl on his face, but says nothing. I say my goodbyes to Andrea and slip through the door Tim has opened for me. I glance at the receptionist on the way through the waiting area and I notice she is hiding a smile as we leave. I'm sure she heard the noise, and I wonder if that is the first time that has happened. We walk back to the elevator then back to the truck in silence, my arm through his. 



For the Weekend Ch. 08



This story is a fantasy about a submissive married woman having sexual relations with someone other than her husband. If this type of story is not your thing, or somehow disturbs you, please read no further (and please don't leave messages about how you read this story and didn't like that it was about a submissive married woman having sexual relations with someone other than her husband.) I'm quite sure there are stories out there about a wife fantasizing about having sex with her husband in her marital bed under the covers in the dark so they can make babies. I encourage you to use your time to find those. 




We pull out of the parking lot and I guess we are heading back to the hotel.

"Did you like your reward?" Tim asks suddenly. 

"I did, sir." I reply honestly.

"I'm glad you did, but I guess Andrea clouded your judgement."

My mind races. "I'm not sure what you mean, sir?"

"I didn't give you permission to dress." 

The remnants of my post-orgasmic glow embolden me and I say, "but sir, we weren't in the hotel room."

Tim thinks a moment, then says, "you broke the spirit of the law if not the letter. You do have a point, however. I will take that into account when I decide your punishment." 

I am suddenly fearful that a trip back to the store will be the best of my choices. However, that punishment does not seem as bad as it did when he first suggested it...

We arrive back at the hotel and take the elevator to our floor. Once the door closes, Tim demands my dress. Already concerned about my upcoming punishment, I quickly comply, hoping fervently there is no one out and about on our floor to view my lack of clothing. My luck holds, and we make it to our door without incident. Tim takes his time opening the door however, and I can hear the sounds of locks being removed from a door down the hall. I desperately want to hurry Tim, to let him know someone is coming, but I feel this is not a good idea. Tim turns the handle just as I see the door down the hall open, and I scoot inside our room as best as I can with him in the way. It would not surprise me in the least if whoever was coming out of the other room didn't see a bare butt disappearing into our doorway. 

I slip off my shoes to ensure that I cannot be considered clothed, and Tim heads to the armoir to grab a beer for himself and a glass of wine for me. I notice that while we were gone, a space has been cleared and a poker table has been brought in. He hands me my wine and notices me looking at the table.

"I'm having some friends over tonight for a game," he says. " It's a great room; I thought I'd try and make some of the money I'm paying for it back."

My mind reels at the possibilities; Tim is bringing other men here? I wonder what will be expected of me? Will I be allowed to leave until the game is over? 

By now he has returned to the easy chair and is looking me over, much as one would eye over a nice meal. 

"That was quite a performance you gave for James this morning," he says. "let's see if you can do the same for me."

With that, he stands and quickly strips off his shirt, followed by his pants and shorts. He sits back down, slouched against the back of the chair so his lower body is lying across the chair, his semi-erect cock lying on his left thigh. 

"We're going to play this a little differently though," he says. "I'm going to tell you what pose I'd like to see, and you're going to give me the best show you can without moving from that position. So, to start, I want you bent over the table, your ass facing me."

I move myself into position and spread my legs as much as possible to give a good view of my pussy. I move my hips before his gaze, side to side and back and forth, trying to entice him to coming down from his chair and taking a closer look. 

"Here it is, all for you," I purr. "My pussy is yours, would you like to use it? I'd love to have you stuffed up in me, driving your cock into me..."

"Touch yourself."

I lower my shoulders and chest to the table, and reach through my open legs to run my fingers up my slit to my hole. I draw some of the moisture starting to gather there back into my folds and rub gently, spreading my wetness up and down to make my finger's journey smoother. My cunt is awakening to the situation and my touch, and I begin to slide my finger into my opening before moving back down my lips. My palm rests on my clit and applies pressure to the bud, making me change the motion of my hips from a sway to a hump as I grind back and forth. I move my hand further into my crotch and run my index finger lightly along my anus, never penetrating, just running around the rim. 

"Lie on the floor on your back. Spread your legs for me."

Once again I do as I'm told and lay down where I am, wide-open and vulnerable to his gaze. I raise my head and can finally see whether my show has had an effect on him. Although the angle from the floor to the chair prevents me from seeing everything, I can see the open robe and his hand moving over the head of his cock, which tells me he is hard. The tip glistens as he spreads his precum down his shaft. I'm growing more and more aroused as the bad girl takes charge and wishes to please him, to make him want to use my body.

"Please, come down and here and fuck my cunt. Fill me with cum..."

He growls, but does not move towards me, his hand moving a little faster, a little more pronounced.

"Play with yourself some more. Make me want to cum on you." 

I begin again with my tits and soon work down to my pussy, running my fingers over my lips and then dipping one, two, and eventually three fingers in my hole. My palm continues to ride my clit whenever possible, and despite the draining orgasm Andrea gave me earlier, I find myself wanting to release again. My finger continues to move down to my rosebud and then back to my cunt. Before this weekend, I have never found my asshole to be an erogenous zone; now I find my motions being drawn to it, the nerve endings awakened by the attention paid to them. My motions become more urgent until Tim stands up between my legs and strokes himself forcefully. I realize he plans on covering me with his seed and I watch with fascination as he pleasures himself, waiting for that first spurt to leap from his cock. 

Suddenly he stops himself and smiles down at me. "Not yet," he says. "I think I'll let this build a bit more for later. How about a late lunch or early dinner?"

I realize it is mid-afternoon and I have not had anything to eat today other than the breakfast croissant (and a beautiful woman's pussy). I look up at him and nod quickly in agreement. 

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to finish first, sir?" I ask, hoping that his finishing might allow me the same. 

"No, let's see what happens later," he says, and with that, offers me his hand to help me up. I take his hand with mixed feelings, really wanting to pull him on top of me and have him drive his cock deep into my cunt.

He helps me up and permits me to put my sundress back on, and five minutes later we are in the hotel's restaurant. We are installed in a darkened booth along with menus and a wine list, and soon are into our first glass of wine while we wait for our meals. 

The alcohol loosens my tongue, and decide to ask a question.

"Have you ever done this before?" I ask.

"Dinner at this hotel? Not recently, no." Seeing the impatience in my eyes, he continues. "Oh, you mean this whole weekend thing? I've done parts, but never to this extent. I think the stories I've told your husband of my past adventures are what gave him the idea that I might be interested. Are you enjoying it so far?" 

I look at the table, trying to frame my answer. I am most certainly enjoying this, but the conservative part of me I shouldn't be, that's it's wrong, and my answer should reflect that. The submissive slut fights back, however, and temporizes that as long as it's not my idea, it's OK.

"Yes sir, I am," I respond, slipping back into character. "As long as you are enjoying it..."

"I'm having lot's of fun," Tim replies, "how can I not be? A beautiful woman at my beck and call for a weekend, doing things that most men jack off to just thinking about? And there's so much to do yet. You know, your husband knows you quite well. He gave me the idea for most of this, and I've just embellished on the ideas. And you just reminded me—I have to check on something—excuse me for a moment."

Tim slides out of the booth and from where I am sitting see him go to the front desk to confer with the desk clerk. They speak a moment, the desk clerk nodding, and then Tim returns just as our food arrives. 

While we eat, Tim reveals a bit more about himself. Single, currently unattached, and is a consultant to the company my husband works for. He and Rich have spoken several times about their sex lives over after-work drinks at various conferences, and it was at one of these that Rich first approached him about the possibilities of this weekend. Tim quickly agreed after Rich showed him some X-rated photos of me, and e-mails concerning the details followed the conference. 

As we reach a comfortable level of fullness and a third glass of wine, Tim asks me, "so, would you like to know what's on the agenda tonight?" 

I most certainly want to know, but am also a little nervous about what I will find out. Do I have the night off so he may play poker? Am I to be there?

I nod and look down at my plate. 

"Well," he says. "I'm having three friends over tonight for Poker. You will be serving us—keeping our glasses full, bringing us food, making arrangements with Room Service should we need more of anything. I'm hoping your presence will be enough of a distraction to let me win a few hands."

"Do you think I'll be much of a distraction?" I ask softly.

"While I think you would rather not—" my eyes lift to his and he is smiling—"I'm going to have you model the things we bought for you last night. That will be quite the distraction, I believe. Think you can do that?" 

My cheeks flush hotly as I look down and nod my affirmative, embarrassed by the thought of being on display for strangers like this. 

I look back at him and he is still smiling, seemingly amused by my discomfort. "Don't worry," he says. "These three have been friends of mine for some time. You can trust them—what goes on between us, stays between us." 

"Do they know what's going on between us?" 

"Not really. They know I'll have a waitress at the game, not much more. Look at the time! We should go upstairs and select your outfit." With that, he signs the tab and we're off, back to the elevator and up to the room.



For the Weekend Ch. 10



After I show James out, Tim moves to the bathroom and begins drawing a bath. He calls me to him where he tells me, "we may have a late night ahead, so why don't you relax a bit in the tub? I want you clean and nice-smelling for my guests." He smiles, leaves the room for a moment and comes back with a glass of wine for me, and then leaves again, closing the door behind him. I move the wineglass to the side of the tub, and take some bath salts the hotel has supplied and drop them in the hot water before stepping in and relaxing. I hear Tim moving things about in the other room, but my mind turns to thoughts of what has happened, and what is to come. 

24 hours ago I was a working mother, like millions of other women. In the past day I have become a strange man's sex slave, been an exhibitionist, made love to a woman, and jacked off a young man. How much more will I be asked to do in the next 24 hours? Will I come to a point where I must use the safe phrase given me? Sides of me I never wanted to admit existed have taken over my mind and body this weekend, and I believe I am embracing the change. Can I go back to my normal life at the end of this weekend? 

I continue to think back on my weekend so far, my excitement from the earlier episodes being pushed to new heights as I think back on the past day and imagine what might be next. 

The water is just getting cool when Tim comes for me. "Time to get you dressed." I step out to him holding a waiting towel for me, which he uses to dry my skin while I towel off my hair. He soon pronounces me dry and directs me to my makeup with the instructions to apply "just the basics, no need to try and look any sexier than you already are."

I spend some time drying and styling my hair, then apply foundation, a little blush and a little eyeliner, taking him seriously and preparing myself just as I would for a normal day of work. I stop and chuckle at this thought—I guess I will be working tonight, but this will be my first night of waitressing in quite a while, and certainly have never done so in what I think Tim will have me dressed in. I dab a pit of perfume behind my ears, between my breasts—and the bad girl in me moves my finger to do the same just above my sex. 

I finish my makeup and move to the find Tim in the bedroom. I catch him just beginning to dress when I enter and he is completely nude, his cock and balls hanging at rest between his muscled legs. He sees me enter and smiles, then asks me to lie on the bed. He tells me to spread my legs and I think I am about to become his plaything again, but instead he moves between my legs with a towel and a pair of scissors and begins to work on my sparse thatch. I thought I had been well-trimmed when I was given to him yesterday, but Tim works for several minutes before pronouncing himself satisfied. "You smell nice," he says, apparently referring to my use of perfume in the area he has been working in, "but I prefer your natural smell more." 

I sit up and look at my crotch to see that while I am not bare, my mons and lips are even more apparent than they were just a short time ago. I do notice that his cock has regained some firmness, and realize his work had an effect on him as well. 

With that, Tim moves to the table beside the door and selects the tap pants, camisole, and peignoir I tried on last night. Handing them to me, he instructs me to dress. I breathe a small sigh of relief that I will be able to retain a small sense of modesty in front of his friends. While I am dressing, Tim retrieves my shoes from yesterday afternoon, and my outfit is complete. Or so I think. 

Tim goes to his own bag, allowing me to watch his muscled ass flex as he walks away. He rummages around for a moment, finds what he is looking for, and returns to where I am standing next to the bed. I see he is carrying something red and seemingly made of velvet, and think it is a bow of some sort until he grabs each end and begins to reach to my neck. I realize then with fascination it is a collar or choker of some sort! I catch a glimpse of metal—the buckle, or a stud, perhaps—as he wraps it around my throat and fastens it. He straightens it a bit, then steps back and admires the look. When he is satisfied, he asks if I would like to look as well, and without bothering to reply, I turn to the mirror. 

It is indeed a beautiful red velvet collar and goes well with my lingerie, but I quickly see what the flash of metal was—a loop, like you would see on a dog collar! 

I look at Tim, unsure of the meaning, and he seems to understand my confusion.

"You are mine," he says, and I want my friends to know that—that you are mine, not theirs."

I take this statement to mean that for tonight I will be "eye candy" only, and am somewhat relieved by the thought. 

With that, Tim further directs me as to what my tasks will be tonight. "You will not speak unless directed to, or spoken to. You will address my friends as 'sir', and will do whatever they ask. I will decide whether I wish to permit you to follow their suggestions or instructions, not you. These are very good friends of mine, and you should trust them as much as I do. Do you understand?"

I voice my acknowledgement and he finishes dressing, choosing a pair of exercise shorts and a t-shirt. We head back into the living room and Tim allows me to pour myself a glass of wine and relax as much as the situation will allow while he finishes putting cards and poker chips on the table. He is finishing up when there is a knock on the door. 

"Get that, please," he asks, and I take a deep breath and do as I'm asked. My modesty takes over for a moment and I hide behind the door as I open it to find 3 men roughly the same age as Tim standing there. Even though most of my body is hidden, part of my camisole and filmy robe are visible to the group in the hallway and it causes them to hesitate, giving me a chance to get a better look at them. The man who knocked is blonde and about 6 feet tall, slim, and dressed in a pair of jeans and a golf shirt. Behind him and to his left is a blacked-haired man about 5'6", dressed in golf shorts and shirt, stocky with a bit of a pot-belly. To blondie's right is a black man, about 5' 10" and obviously well-toned, dressed in a pair of windpants and a tight t-shirt. 

We both continue to stare at each other, me taking in the men before me and they temporarily at a loss what to do. Blondie eventually breaks the stalemate and says, "we're looking for our friend Tim—he said this was his room—"

Tim calls out from around the corner, "You've got the right place—c'mon in!" 

I open the door wider, still remaining behind it, and they file in, each greeting Tim in turn while they continue to discretely check me out. 

After they have all entered, I close the door behind them, my shield now gone. Once again I am thankful of the outfit Tim has chosen for me—while sexy in what it represents, it is not especially revealing. 

Tim finishes with his handshakes and greetings and takes a moment to introduce me. 

"Folks, this is Karen, our server for the evening. Karen, this is Ian—" motioning to Blondie—"Vince—" gesturing to the stocky man, "and Elliott," waving to the last member of the group. 

"Jesus, Tim," Vince exclaims. "When you said you were having a waitress for this, I didn't have this in mind. Is she, y'know..."

"No," he laughs, "she's not a poker player. She's also not a pro waitress, or anything else you might think. She's on loan to me this weekend from a friend." 

"Is this material for another one of your stories?" Ian laughs. "You do luck out. Do we get to be in your next story, too?"

"Not sure," Tim replies. "We'll have to see how things go. For now, she's mine. You can look all you want, but you can't touch." He pauses for a moment, almost as if he wishes to see if they will try to bargain, then continues. "Didn't you come to play Poker? C'mon, sit down and give Karen your orders. She'll get your drinks and food for you."

"She might be kind of a distraction..." Elliott announces. 

"Want her to leave until we're done?"

As one, the group vetos the idea, laugh, and then finds seats at the table. I'm busy for the next 15 minutes getting drinks for the players and bringing them appetizers from the cart. Eventually everyone has been served, and I'm unsure what to do next as Elliott deals the first hand. Tim sees me standing by the cart and invites me to take something to eat and drink as well. I'm too nervous to eat, but gratefully take another glass of wine to bolster my courage. 

After I have filled my glass, Tim motions me to stand next to him, saying something about being a "good luck charm". I do as asked, leaving to get a napkin for Ian, a fork for Vince, or some more Aztec Eggrolls for Elliott, always addressing each as 'sir', which they seem to get a kick out of, but I always return to Tim's side after. The men play, but continue to steal glances at me during shuffles or after they fold, the looks becoming longer and less discrete with each hand. 

Tim first moves my robe to get to my thigh around the eighth hand. He pushes my peignoir back and idly strokes up and down my skin from my knee up to the bottom of my tap pants, going a little further underneath the loose leg of my shorts. Eventually his hand is reaching to my ass with each stroke, then returning to my knee. I am blushing furiously as he continues to fondle me in front of his friends. 

"Jesus, Tim," Vince says after a few minutes of this. "That's not fair. How can we concentrate when you're playing with that on your side? At least show us something if we're going to lose all our money."

"You're right, but you'v already said you like her here, so I'll make you a deal," Tim says. "You guys seem to like my stories. So, to help you concentrate, every time any one of you wins a hand, I'll tell you a little bit about what Karen and I have been up to this weekend. Once I'm out of stories, I'll see what else we can play for."

Elliott laughs. "So you're going to reward us for winning by distracting us more? Well hell, we're playing anyways, so I'm in. I'll play just to see what comes after the stories. At the rate we're winning, we may never get there." With that, the other two men agree and Tim deals the next hand.

I begin to panic a bit at hearing Tim's proposal. This is not what I had in mind, and even with the adventures I've had this weekend, I'm not sure I want these strangers to know what those adventures are! Tim senses that I becoming stressed and his hand leaves my leg and goes underneath my robe and up the back of my camisole to give me a soothing, reassuring stroke. I am still unsure, but decide to wait and see how things play out. 

Ian wins the hand. "Her husband gave her to me for the weekend," Tim says. "She's always had a hankering to belong to a strange man, so she's mine until tomorrow evening." I blush and look hard at the table, but say nothing. Tim recounts the details of my striptease, the pronounces, "A half hour after she got here, I came on her face." I blush even harder and wish I could crawl under the table. The men are mostly silent, save the obligatory "whoa," or "goddamn". What else could they say to this? It's not every day you are given this type of information while all of the players are in the room.

Tim passes the deck to Ian and says, "deal." Over the next several hands, Tim recounts all the details of our weekend so far, with details as little as my attention to him in the shower up to events such as the loss of my anal virginity and my first woman. With each story, the men get a little more boisterous, telling Tim how they would have loved to see me tied with a cock in my ass, or what they would do if they saw me naked in the hall. I am mortified to be the center of their attention, but the slut side continues to turn my excitement level up several notches as I realize what a tease this must be for these men. 

Tim wins several more hands while the men are busy discussing what I look like under my lingerie, and then their attention turns back to advancing this game further. Elliott wins the hand, and Tim is at the point in our timeline where we walked in on James. 

He begins the story, telling his audience about walking in on the young bellhop masturbating while holding my rabbit. He stops, and then says, "Karen, why don't you tell them what happened next?" 

I don't look up, my mind reviewing the events after the point where Tim has stopped. "He undressed me..."

"Who undressed you?"

"The bellhop...James..."

"And then what..."

"You showed him how to spank me..."

"And?"

"He spanked me and I...undressed him, and...I...gave him a handjob."

The poker players are wild for this latest story.

"Jesus Christ, I would have loved to see that!"

"Is there anything she won't do if you tell her, Tim?"

"I'm going to have to jack off before I leave! I can't go out in public with this hard-on!"

"Cmon Tim! She's done this much. How about she shows us a little more, and we'll show her our 'appreciation'?" 

"Well," Tim says slowly, "I suppose I could have her show you a bit more skin. Karen, please follow me." With that, he heads to the bedroom, me following two steps behind. 

We reach the room and he shuts the door. "Are you OK with everything so far?" he asks. "If this is too much for you, you can stay in here until the game is done. At this stage, you may have to show them your goods, but I can tell them not to touch..."

"No, I'm alright," I reply, but the good girl is yelling at me to stop right here, knowing full well where this will lead. 

"You know the farther we go, the harder it will be to stop, right?" he asks.

"I know," I say, "I trust you not to let me go too far."

"Good," he says. "Your husband gave me instructions on what is too far, both for him and what he thinks you think your limits are, and I will honor his request, and any you have for me right now. I'll make sure things don't get out of hand. They're good guys and will stop if I ask them, but you have them pretty hot for you at the moment. Are you ready to make them hotter?"

I nod, knowing in my heart that anything after this will mean more than just a look, and Tim picks up the teddy for me to wear. I slip off my robe, pants and camisole and reach for the lingerie when Tim suddenly grabs me and throws me on the bed, pulling my legs apart and driving his tongue into my pussy. I groan with the feeling of this strong man ravishing my cunt and I pull his head into me, trying to drive his tongue further up my pussy. He continues to stroke and lick with fervor for a moment more, then gets up off the bed and grins at me. I beg him to finish me, but he just tells me to get dressed while he rummages through his bag. With another groan I roll off the bed and step into the teddy, pulling it over my hips and threading my arms through the shoulder straps, then setting it correctly on my breasts while pulling it even through my crotch. I am just finishing when Tim is at my side. He reaches for my collar and with a snap attaches a leash! I look at him in surprise, but he just smiles, tugs the leash ever so gently, and says, "c'mon, my little slut. I want you to drive them wild." 

With that, he opens the door and leads me into the other room. The gathered men greet me with wolf whistles and catcalls.

"Geezus, Tim. You take this slave thing pretty seriously! That's some hot shit! Let's see some more!"

Tim laughs and says, "how about a few more hands of poker? I'll sweeten the pot. Winner of the hand gets to hold the leash."

"Just hold the leash?" Vince asks.

"We'll see," Tim responds.

Tim wins the next two hands, then Ian wins the third. Vince and Elliott curse him soundly as Tim hands him the leash end and tells me to go stand by Ian until he loses. I do as I'm told and am hardly in position before I feel his hand on my ass, testing the firmness of my cheeks. Tim does not object—so much for look but don't touch—and I continue to blush but do not move. Distracted, Ian loses the next hand and control of my leash passes to Vince. The process repeats itself as Vince tests my ass, but also slides his hand further down the curve to my crotch, getting a finger in the side of the fabric in the process. Vince seems to object to losing control of the leash back to Tim more so than losing the hand itself, and I move back to Tim's side. His concentration and luck are excellent, and keeps my leash for three more hands before Elliott breaks the streak. I move to his side and expect more of the same, but Elliott has other plans. He asks to be dealt out and quickly concentrates on me, spinning me to face him and burying his face in my crotch, only a thin piece of fabric separating his tongue and my clit. His hands reach for my breasts and begin to play, still outside my garment, but still playing with my covered nipples nonetheless. I grind my cunt against his face, trying to relieve the need my button has for friction. Too soon, Tim wins me back. 

"Damn," Elliott says. She's wet as hell, and smells like she's in heat. She was liking what I was doing, Tim—whattya say I give her what she wants?"

"Tell you what," Tim says. "Let's up the stakes. If I win this next hand, Karen gets dressed and will just play waitress the rest of the night. Any one of you win, she gets naked. Who's in?"

All 4 men throw in their ante and Tim deals. I am standing next to him and see he has drawn 3 Jacks, a 10 and an 8. I realize Tim has a good chance of winning this hand and a wave of relief washes over me followed by—was that disappointment? 

The table goes through their initial round of betting, and the group throws their discards at Tim for replacement. I watch the action and look back down at Tim's hand to see what he now has to go with the trio of Jacks, but see that two of them are now conspicuously absent—he's going for a straight! The cards he dealt himself won't win him much, though—he gets back a 2 and a King. Either the others have nothing either, or I will be showing them everything shortly. 

The betting goes around the table for a couple of rounds, and then the moment of truth arrives. Ian lays down two pair, Elliott a pair of 9s, and Vince lays down a straight. They all look at Tim expectantly, who in turn lets the tension build a bit. 

Finally Ian can take it no more. "C'mon man, do we get a show?" he pleads. 

Tim takes his time, laying his cards down one by one. The 10, then the Jack. 

"Uh-oh," Elliott moans. 

Tim lays down the King, and Vince shouts, "looking better!" The 8 goes down, and the men quickly do the mental math—no way Tim can win now! The cheering erupts, and Tim throws down the 2, a smirk on his face.



For the Weekend Ch. 11



"Take it off! Strip her! Let's see the goods!" come the shouts from the players. Tim stands and moves behind me, his hands going to my neck, as if to remove the collar and leash I wear. The men look on, the looks on their faces revealing the lust they are feeling. 

Abruptly, Tim's hands move to the straps of my teddy and pull the straps down my arms in one motion. My breasts bounce free of the cups and are on display, along with my very erect nipples. 

"Nice little pair of titties! God, I could play with them for hours! Look at those nips--are you cold, honey?"

The group laughs as they look upon me like I am a long-awaited Christmas present. Tim leaves my like this for a moment more, then pushes the garment off my hips and lets it slide down my legs to pool at my feet. My lips, darkly flushed and even more prominently displayed after Tim's trimming, are at tabletop level and the focus of attention of three very interested men. 

"Christ, I'd love to run my tongue down that groove!"

"Fuck that—I'd kill to put my cock IN that groove!"

Tim just smiles at the comments and turns me to face him, his hands back on my shoulders, giving the group a good view of my ass. I look up into his eyes and he is looking back, still smiling at me. He bends to touch his lips to mine and kisses me, drawing even more hoots and catcalls from our audience. His hands travel down my back to my cheeks and pulls them up and apart to further display my rosebud and lips beyond. I return his kiss, feeling the eyes of our audience boring into my back, my ass, my pussy. 

Abruptly Tim breaks our kiss and moves his hand to my crotch to feel my wetness. He seems to get the answer he wants, excuses us to his guests, and leads me to the bedroom. His friends voice their displeasure at being left out of what they think is about to happen. 

"Shit man, at least let us watch you fuck her!"

"That's weak! What are we supposed to do while you're getting your rocks off?"

Tim stops at the doorway and looks at me. "Last chance," he murmurs. I say nothing and look at the floor. Tim turns back to the group and says, "You're right, I'm being rude. How about another hand of poker?"

"You gotta be shitting me," Vince says. "I'd rather play with her than cards."

"Well, how about this, then," Tim replies. The winner of the next hand gets some relief from their current condition, supplied by her. I choose the form the relief takes. If I win, I go to the bedroom with her, and you can...take care of yourselves."

"Does that mean we can fuck her?" Elliott asks.

"I don't think so," says Tim. "Her pussy is mine, and I plan on using it after the game. I don't want you messing it up. I'll make sure she makes you feel good, though." 

"I guess that'll work for me," Elliott says. "Whose deal?"

The men quickly sit and Ian picks up the cards, starting to shuffle. I take my place beside Tim again, and he takes the opportunity to slide his index finger between my pussy lips, making quite a show of it before withdrawing his digit and putting it in his mouth like he is licking off cake frosting.

"Oh yeah, she is hot, wet, and sweet tasting. You guys better hope for good cards before I mess that up." 

The others grumble their own promises and threats as they ante up and look at their cards. 

Tim draws nothing special, and it is no surprise to me that he folds after he discards and receives new cards. This time the fear of what I know is to come is no match for the anticipation of the event. 

The betting goes on, each player aware of the stakes. Hands are called, and Vince wins with a 3 of a kind. With a whoop from him, and groans from the others, he gets up and grabs for my leash, looking at Tim expectantly. 

Tim hands over my leash and tells him, "You have ten minutes and use of the bedroom if you want. You can tit-fuck her until you finish."

"Aww, shit," he whines. "Can't I just fuck her? How about a blowjob?" Quite a charmer, that Vince. 

"Nope, take it or take care of yourself," Tim responds. 

"Can I least put it in her? I promise not to cum in her."

Instead, Tim addresses me. "He is allowed to fuck your tits. He can play with your body all he likes, but he may not put his dick—" at that point, he looks at Vince, then back to me-- "inside any part of you. Do you understand?" 

Vince does not argue any further, instead pulling my leash as he heads for the bedroom. "C'mon honey, let's do this!"

I quickly look at Tim and then follow before I am yanked off my feet by Vince. He has barely shut the door before I hear from the other room, "Your ten minutes have started!"

Vince has already dropped my leash and is pulling his clothes off, revealing an out of shape body, not abhorrent to look at, but not nearly as pleasing as Tim's. 

"Get on the bed, cunt, and spread them legs. I want a good taste of that twat of yours." 

By now his cock is exposed, somewhat short, but it is definitely hard and seems to mean business, nonetheless. It matches the rest of Vince's body rather appropriately. He is kicking his underwear off his feet as I sit on the bed and roll back to lie in the middle, opening my legs as instructed. 

He is between them even as I finish the motion, his tongue making a drive for my slit. He grabs my thighs with a strong grip and pulls my pussy to his face, showing none of the grace and gentleness Tim has shown so far this weekend. Still, his efforts do not go unappreciated by my pussy...

"Damn, you're drenched, baby," he says as he comes up for air. "You sure Tim didn't come in you already? I don't wanna be eating his splooge..." 

"No sir, he hasn't cum...there...today," I reply, my mind running through the day's events. 

"Blowjobs and assfuckings then, or else he's gay," he says as his head dives back to my crotch and his hands travel up to my breasts, squeezing and mauling them, his urgency apparent. 

From the other room comes Tim's voice. "5 minutes!"

"Fuck," Vince breathes. "If I put my cock in you, are you going to tell on me?" 

"I'd have to, Tim told me not to allow it. I have to follow his rules." 

"Well, shit, I'll just have to play it his way, then. You got nice tits, not a lot to play with, but what the fuck—I think I can make do." With that he climbs up my body his legs straddling my chest, his cock bobbing above the valley between my breasts.. 

"Push your tits together for me, slut. Make me a nice cunt to fuck."

I wrap my flesh around his cock as he lowers himself on to me. He begins to thrust, the friction a little uncomfortable until his precum has a chance to coat my skin and smooth his movement. 

"So your husband knows about this?" Vince is looking down at me as he continues to thrust, his face searching mine for a reaction.

"Yes sir, he arranged this with Tim."

"What is he, a cuck?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean?"

"Y'know, a cuckold—a guy who gets off being humiliated because he knows he can't satisfy you?"

"No, it's not that at all. He knows I—I needed to try this, and he knew he was not the right person to show me..."

"Y'know, most guys wouldn't let you do this. You're one lucky slut."

Before I can answer, Tim's voice comes through the door again. "One minute!"

"Shit," he murmurs and begins to thrust harder, a grunt accompanying each one. "Here it comes cunt, hope you like jizz!"

A final explosive grunt, followed by a series of aaahhhs, and I feel a hot warmth hit the bottom of my chin, then the hollow of my throat. Several more spurts land, each a little farther down my neck and chest until I am liberally covered. 

The door opens, Tim standing there while Ian and Elliott try to sneak a peek from behind him. 

"Fuck honey, that wasn't too bad at all for not getting it in you. You taste as good as you look!" He rises up from his position on me, pausing to wipe his cock on my stomach, then begins getting dressed.

I lay there, feeling his cum pool on my throat and run up my chest to my shoulders. Tim comes to me with a washcloth and gently cleans me, taking care to wipe Vince's spend off of my collar. 

"Are you OK?" he asks, seeming to really want to know. 

"Yes sir, just fine."

"Elliott and Ian are pretty understanding guys, want me to tell them you need some rest?"

"No, I'm OK. I'm not hurt, I just...just...have an itch..."

Tim smiles at me and whispers, "I promise to take care of that in a bit. Why don't you come out and watch the next hand?"

Tim helps me up as Vince finishes dressing, a grin on his face. 

"I'm starting to believe your bullshit stories, Tim. I'm gonna take off, you've got my money and she's—" he looks at me with an evil grin—"got my cum. Nothing left to give you guys, except shit. Later!" 

He breezed out of the room and I hear the door shut behind him.

Ian chuckles and says, "class act, ain't he?" Murmurs of agreement come from Tim and Elliott and we move back to the poker table. 

Once again I take my place by Tim and the cards are dealt. His hand is better this time, and I hope I am to be his next, if for no other reason to have a cock buried in me, but Elliot's straight wins. 

He breaks into a wide grin, and Tim considers for a moment. "Karen, please give him a blowjob, as long as nobody tells Vince. Elliott, would you like to show off out here, or would you like some privacy?"

Nahh man, I don't want you two being scared of what I got. I'll take her into the bedroom."

Tim hands him the leash and tells me, "just your mouth. He can't stick that thing we're supposed to be scared of anywhere else. If he wants to come in your mouth, he can. If he does, I expect you to swallow it all." 

Elliott starts towards the other room, paying attention not to yank the leash. He gently closes the door behind us and we hear "10 minutes!" 

He looks at me, and says with surprising gentleness, "if you'd rather not do this, I understand...I don't know if you're being forced or not. Tim's not the type, but there's some wild stuff goin' on tonight..."

I surprise myself a little by replying, "no, Tim has told me to, and I will. I must admit, I would like to see what you have."

He has me sit on the edge of the bed as he pulls his windpants down, revealing a very erect 7 inch cock, about as thick as Tim's. This is the first black cock I have ever seen, and I marvel for a moment at the contrast between the dark skin of his shaft and the dark pink of his head. I gently reach for it and stroke for a moment, feeling it jump in my hand's grasp. The events of the evening have left him in a state of excitement, and he is wet with precum. Elliott shuffles forward a bit and gently takes the back of my head and pushes it forward to his package. "Sorry girl," he says, "but I'd sure hate to run out of time in this condition."

I understand his urgency and let the head slide past my lips, continuing on down the shaft until I can't go any further without gagging. I bob up and down without urgency, allowing my tongue to swirl around his hole on the upstroke before going back down the length. One hand plays with his balls while the other strokes him when my mouth can't be there. 

"5 minutes!"

I'm sure I'm hitting the right spots, as he moans and sighs, telling me how good this feels. His left hand, which had been on the back of my head, is joined by his right, and he grips a little tighter. He suddenly releases his grip and asks me, "I'm gong to cum soon. Are you sure you're OK with taking it in your mouth?" I grunt my approval and continue bobbing on his pole.

"Ill take that as a yes, then. His hands return to my head and he begins to thrust more forcefully, his breathing becoming rapid. "Ohh, honey, here it comes... take it all...take my cummmmm..arrrrrgggh!"

He tries to drive his cock down my throat, but instead I place my lips at his head and use my hand to finish the job. Luckily his hands do not force me further down his spike, but hold me in place. I feel the first spurt hit the back of my throat, followed by more. I swallow as quickly as possible, and continue to nurse him as his blasts subside to dribbles.

"1 minute!"

Elliott exhales sharply and laughs. "What will I do with that minute?" 

I look up at him and smile, my mouth open to show that I have done as Tim directed, and also to satisfy a little bit of the slut in me.

He is pulling up his pants when Tim opens the door. 

"All set?" Tim asks.

"Oh yeah," Elliott replies. "I'm clean as a whistle. Since Ian's my ride, I guess I'll be hanging out a bit."

Tim laughs and looks at me, checking me over to see if I'm OK. I smile and open my mouth again. He laughs and heads back to the card table.

Ian deals the next hand. Tim builds a full house, and Ian can't match it with the pair he has.

"Well, if you'd like to wait and watch, you're welcome to, but I'm going to be a while," Tim says to Ian.

"What about the 10 minute deal?" 

"Only for guests, not for me."

"Share?"

"Would you?"

Ian smiles and chuckles, then says, "nahh, you know what I got waiting at home. I can probably make it there before I pop. Maybe I'll come back later, you won't last as long as you think, anyways." 

Tim's turn to laugh. "Well, thanks for the game, then. We'll have to do this again."

Ian and Elliott look at me, still nude, with the remains of Vince's spunk on my collar. "Promise she'll be here."

"No promises, but we'll see what we can do."

Goodbyes are said, and soon it is just Tim and I. He looks at me and says, "in the bedroom. Now."

I enter first and lay on the bed as he comes in, stripping off his shirt and shorts.

"Your husband is going to love seeing this." 

"I don't remember you taking any pictures?"

"Pictures, no. Movies..." He points to a camera sitting on the bureau. I taped over the 'on' light so it wouldn't look like it was recording. I get a copy, and Rich gets a copy."

And then he is nude, his erection bobbing menacingly in front of him. He climbs on to the bed with me and takes control, forcing my legs open and mounting me with a hard thrust. 

"Remember how I told Ian I was going to be a while?" he asks.

"Yes, sir."

"I lied. Your performance tonight made me ready to..." His lips cover my mouth, his tongue searching for mine, and he drives his cock deep into my cunt. He fucks me for just a moment more before exploding in me. I had hoped he would last longer, would ride me long and hard to bring me closer to my own orgasm, but I am satisfied with my role in the night's events, and hopeful that I can use my fingers to give myself relief later. Tim has other ideas, though. He gets off of me, goes to my bag, and retrieves my Hitachi Magic Wand. Handing it to me, he tells me he would like to watch me make myself cum. I quickly switch the vibrator to high—no need for teasing!--and press it to my clit as his head dips to my breasts, licking and sucking them gently. The intense vibrations quickly send me over the edge, and I cry out in intense pleasure as my thighs come together to force the Magic Wand into my slit. 

Tim is sitting on the bed, gently rubbing my stomach, as I come down from my orgasm. I lie there, the vibrator now carelessly discarded to my side, my senses reveling in the post-orgasmic feelings running through me. I close my eyes, reveling in the feeling of warmth and satisfaction, and fall asleep with Tim's hand gently stroking me...



For the Weekend Ch. 12



I awake early the next morning on my side with Tim wrapped around me. I quickly realize what has awoken me is his hard cock between my thighs and nestled against my pussy, sliding back and forth in a leisurely yet insistent manner. I look over my shoulder and say, "good morning. Been up long?"

"Been up long, SIR!", he growls and pushes his hips hard against my ass. His tone is gruff, but I get the feeling it more for show than anything else. 

"I've only got you for a few more hours, so I've got to make the most of my time." His left hand is on my breast, alternately stroking and squeezing. 

"Yes sir," I respond meekly, and spread my thighs a bit to run my hand over the head of his cock as it saws through my cuntlips. I feel his stubble on my back and his lips kissing my neck and shoulders, with an occasional bite as a change of pace. 

My pussy is moistening, as much from his pre-cum as my growing excitement. "Put it in," he says softly, and I use my fingers to push his cockhead into my hole on his next thrust forward. He lets out a sigh and grabs my hips with both hands, pulling me back on to his spike. His pace is no longer leisurely, and he drives into me with force, using my pussy for his pleasure. With his forceful thrusting he does not last long, and cums in me with a final push and a series of short grunts. 

We lie there a moment, his cock softening and retreating from my cunt. He pats me on my asscheek and rolls off the bed, moving into the living room and announcing, "coffee and breakfast out here. Want some?" 

I roll off the bed as well, not even bothering to attempt to clean the cum now trickling out of me and smearing my thighs. I stroll into the other room and see that while the poker table is still there, the food cart from the night before has been taken away and replaced with a trolley loaded with 2 carafes of coffee, pastry, and cut fruit. I continue on past the food to the bathroom to pee and clean up a little bit, then return for the cup of coffee Tim has already poured for me. I take it from him gratefully and sit on the couch, leaning forward over my knees as I take small sips of the hot liquid. Tim sits beside me, also holding a cup of coffee. 

"Did James bring breakfast?" I ask.

"No, I don't think he's on duty yet. A nice young lady brought it up. She seemed to have an interest in you. She kept looking through the bedroom door."

"The door was open?" 

"It was, and I made sure the covers were off of you. I should have seen if she was interested in you as a tip."

I smile, but say nothing and continue to sip my coffee. I don't think he's joking.

"So," Tim asks, "how do you feel about last night?"

I ponder this question for a moment, trying to decide how I feel. Tim gave me to two men to be their plaything, and while the old me would have been mortified and could never have done such a thing, the me from this weekend enjoyed the experience of satisfying those men, and realize that a part of me wished I could have had more from them. 

"It was fine," I reply. "Vince was a bit...rough around the edges. He tried to get me to let him..."

"Fuck you?" Tim says. "Not surprised. I thought he would. I was curious to see if you would follow my directions. Vince is an OK guy, but rough around the edges is a good description." 

"Elliott was nice," I continue. "He seemed concerned for me, wanted to make sure I wasn't being forced into anything."

"Yeah, he's a pretty good guy. I notice you still sucked him off. I take it that means you wanted to?" 

I smile and look down at my coffee. " I had to, you gave me instructions. I was a little surprised that Ian passed on his turn with me. I guess he was a little nervous about cheating on his wife?"

She's pretty feisty for sure, not to mention good-looking, but she's not jealous of any of his activities as far as I know, and you're a great piece of ass, so I was a little surprised he passed, too. I guess you wanted to service him as well?"

I smile again, this time looking him in he eyes. "I would have had to, you gave me instructions."

"I see that you are getting pretty good at this master/slave thing. Think you'll keep it up tomorrow?"

"I haven't really thought about that yet. I don't think I can with Rich, it just wouldn't be the same. I'm not sure what other alternatives there are. I'm not even sure Rich would want me to continue on—this might be a one-time event for him." A small wave of panic passes over me. "I wonder if he's even regretting this weekend?" 

Tim thinks for a moment, then answers. "Rich and I spoke this morning to arrange when and how you will be returned to him. He didn't sound like he was regretting anything. He wanted as many details as I would give him. No, I think he is fine with this. Just like you have a safeword, he has the same arrangement with me. He didn't use it. 

If, after you and he talk, you decide this is something you would like to repeat, just let him know and he'll know how to get hold of me. Or if you prefer another master—" he pauses to gauge my reaction—"I can help you arrange that. I have some connections."

I think for a moment, then put down my coffee and kneel on the floor in front of him, my hands running up his thighs to his cock. "No sir," I say, "the master I have now is treating me very well."

Tim chuckles, and says, "I'm glad you feel that way, but I won't hold you to it after I return you to your husband. Talk it over after the heat of the moment passes. Things look differently when you aren't naked in front of a man." 

He allows me to caress his manhood for a moment more, then rises and pulls me to him. A quick kiss, and he tells me to shower, only saying that "there's more to do today."

I do as I'm told and head for the bathroom, closing the door behind me and allowing the water to steam up the room before I step in the tub and clean up from yesterday's (and this morning's) activities. Tim does not join me, and I briefly wonder if he is waiting so he may receive my full attention when I bathe him, and so I continue my morning routine. I debate whether I should dry my hair and apply makeup, as I am probably going to get wet again when I become his bath attendant, but do so, more as a force of habit than anything else. 

Once satisfied my makeup and hair are acceptable, I open the door and walk into the living room, ready for whatever is coming next. 

But what I see stops me in my tracks and briefly makes me try to cover up before I remember my situation. Sitting on the couch, drinking coffee, is Ian. As much of a surprise as that is, though, the person sitting next to him absolutely shocks me. Andrea is here!

"I think you remember Ian from last night, and you probably remember his wife, Andrea, as well." Tim is standing behind them and smirking, seeming to enjoy my reaction. 

Andrea gets up and kisses me on the cheek. "I told you I'd see you soon," she says. 

"When Andrea and I were discussing what the payment would be for her services rendered, she mentioned that she wanted to get Ian a gift." Tim explains. "She thought you might be just the thing. So, you'll be Ian's for a little while. I'm just going to hang out and get inspiration for later."

Actually Tim, the agreement was that she would be mine," Andrea interjects. "However, I do want to use her for Ian's amusement, as well...why don't we move to the bedroom?"

The four of us find our way to the other room, me following Tim, Andrea and Ian behind us. Tim put on a robe while I was in the shower, leaving me as the only naked person in the room (again). He picks up the video camera and asks, "Folks, if it's OK with you, I would like to record this for posterity. Her husband might enjoy seeing you with your little plaything."

"It's not like you haven't seen us naked before," Andrea replies. 

Ian snorts at this. "He's done more than just see you..."

"Oh, hush!" she admonishes. "You're just mad you lost that bet!"

With that, she turns to me and pulls me to her. "How about it, Karen? Wanna make a porno?"

I look up at her, entranced by her physical and emotional strength. Even with her clothes on, my nakedness just feels right against her as she holds me close. "If you want, ma'am."

She turns to Tim, then looks back down at me. "Oh, you've taught her well! If she keeps this up, I won't have any excuse to punish her! I'll just have to keep looking..."

She releases me and turns to Tim again. "Ready? Aaaaanddd Action!"

"Face me, slut!" Her voice is harder, more menacing than I have heard from her before. I am shocked into compliance.

"Don't look me in the eyes! Look at the floor like a proper slave!"

I quickly shift my gaze downward and mumble, "yes, ma'am." 

She takes a short step to me and without warning thrusts her hand between my legs. I gasp in surprise, but open myself as best as I can to allow her access. Her finger probes my slit for a moment, then slides in my hole. She slowly removes her finger. "As I thought," she sneers. "Wet and ready. Well, you are here for my enjoyment, not yours. If you do well, I might allow you some pleasure as a reward." Her left hand comes to my chin and tilts my face upward to look at me. She smiles, then inserts her right middle finger—the one that was just recently in my cunt—between my lips. I take the hint and suck it as I would a cock. I detect the taste of my pussy on her finger. 

"Ian, she's got a talented tongue, your cock will love this. I can see why Elliott blew his load so quickly in this slut's mouth. Did you enjoy it, cunt? Did you enjoy the taste of his seed?"

I murmur a "yes ma'am" around her finger, a little bit of humiliation rising from her description of my time with Elliott. 

She abruptly removes her finger from my mouth and spins away from me. "Undress me!"

Andrea is wearing a modest sleeveless flower-print dress that ends just above her knee. I reach for the zipper and slowly pull it halfway down her back, revealing only skin, no bra to interrupt the smoothness of her supple flesh. Reaching the end of the pull, I reach up to move the dress off her shoulders. She pulls her arms through, and the top falls to her waist. I push it over her hips and it falls to the floor revealing an ass in the same condition as her back—devoid of any covering. Her ass is as I remember it, smooth and flowing, inviting my touch. 

"Kneel!" she barks, and I comply.

"Kiss my ass, cunt!"

I lean forward and begin to kiss lightly on the left cheek, the gentle butterfly kisses that thrill me when Rich is trying to seduce me. I allow my attentions to travel from the left over the base of her cleft and on to the right to repeat the processes. I move back and forth, alternating drags of my tongue with brushes of my lips.

She turns to face me again, and suddenly her pussy is right in front of me. I do not have time to admire the view though, as she grabs my head and pulls it into her crotch, using my face to rub her clit against. I am thankful she has not asked me to use my tongue, as it is impossible to open my mouth against the pressure she is exerting against my head. Although my breathing is restricted, what little air I can take in brings with it the heady aroma of her cunt. 

She only holds me to her a crotch for a moment before releasing me, running her fingers over her clit and lips after she backs away from my head. "Now, you may undress my husband."

I get off my knees as she climbs on the bed and I move to Ian. I face him and begin unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers trembling just a little bit, making it difficult to push the buttons through the holes. His hands go to my back and shoulders, gently stroking and caressing me as I perform my assigned task. 

Eventually I reach the last button before his shirt disappears into his jeans, hesitating as I consider whether to pull the shirt out, or instead unbuckle his belt. I look back to Andrea and see she is reclining on the bed watching us, legs spread a bit and pulled up, her finger idly stroking her clit. She says nothing, but instead raises an eyebrow and gives a little smile, as if to say the choice is mine. The belt is the choice I make. My hands reach for the buckle while Ian takes my head in his hands and bends to kiss me. Our lips meet while my hands stay busy, his tongue searching my mouth as my hands search for the clasp on his jeans. 

Ian's tongue explores me while I unzip him and run my hands over his bulge. To my surprise, there is no fabric over his cock—my hand meets hot, solid flesh. I begin to run my fingers over his uncovered manhood spreading the wetness of his precum from head to shaft while his hands travel to my ass, kneading and pulling at my cheeks. 

From behind me comes Andrea's voice. "That looks nice, but I want to see more. Get him naked, cunt, then suck his cock!" 

I quickly move my hands back to the top of his shirt and push it down his arms, never breaking our kiss. His hands leave my ass long enough to pull his hands through and drop the shirt on the floor, then return to my backside to continue their fun. In turn, my hands next travel to his waistband and push, but the jeans bunch halfway down his thighs. I reluctantly break the kiss and sink to my knees yet again, finishing the movement of his pants down to his feet, where he steps out of them. 

Ian steps forward to me so I may do as Andrea commanded. I begin to stick my tongue out to gently lick the underside of his head, but he has other ideas. Ian grabs my head and thrust forward. I open my mouth and move to catch his staff before he pokes my eye out with it, and he quickly sets the pace, seemingly using my mouth as a pussy with a tongue.

He is not gentle, and soon his thrusts have his cock reaching the back of my throat, causing me to gag.

Andrea calls out softly, "easy, babe, don't choke her with that thing. I think you'll get more mileage out of her if she's not throwing up." 

He chuckles, but does indeed decrease the intensity of my mouth fucking. While his cock is slowing down, his mouth is speeding up.

"That's it slut, suck my cock. If you're good, I'll let you swallow my cum, otherwise, I'm going to cover your slutty face with it. Or maybe I'll make you save it and show it to my wife before you swallow it, to show her what a good cocksucker she has. Look at me while I'm talking to you! I want to see my cock sliding in and out of your mouth..."

I dutifully look upwards at him as best as I can given the hold he has on either side of my head. 

"Are you ready, cunt? I'm getting ready to fill your mouth, you better swallow it all..."

"Not yet, Ian," Andrea says to him. "The only cunt you're going to cum in is mine. I have need of this little toy before you do, though. Come here, slut."

Ian's hands come off my head and I rise, looking him in the eye until I am standing again, when I lower my eyes in submission. I turn and move to the bed, and Andrea pats it, inviting me to lay beside her. I get on the bed at the foot and crawl up to her, settling on my side facing her. She takes the lead and pulls me to her, her lips finding mine, kissing me softly, more of the type of kiss I imagine myself giving than what I received from Ian. 

Her hands, strong yet gentle, seem to magically find their way to my most sensitive areas right away, avoiding the direct rush to my tits and pussy. I find myself mimicking her behavior, my own hands going to where I most like to be touched on my own body. She breaks our kiss and begins to work her way over my cheek to my ear, nibbling and lightly licking, before moving down the nape of my neck. My hands slow for a moment while I enjoy this intense assault on my senses, every nerve seemingly being aroused by Andrea's expert ministrations. The tenderness with which she is treating me is seemingly in direct conflict with her demeaning attitude towards me since Tim started recording, and I wonder if the two can coexist. The feeling she is giving me at the moment makes me believe they can, and indeed, this almost feels like a reward for her treatment of me. I find both thrilling, the rough treatment a little more disturbing in that I never thought of myself as that kind of submissive. 

Eventually her hand finds its way to my thighs and gently begins to caress them, encouraging them to open and expose my pussy to her. I willingly comply and gently thrust my sex towards her, silently begging her to run her talented fingers along my opening, to find my clit, to finger fuck me. 

My hands again follow her lessons, and I reach down to move one to her creamy thighs, stroking and petting until she raises her leg to allow me access. I slide my finger to her slit even before she has reached mine, and I gently spread her wetness along her lips, sliding my index finger first along her outer lips, then switching inside, then back to the outer lips. After a few circuits, my finger includes her button as part of the circle, touching then moving on, touching then moving on. My touch seems to be having an effect as her hips begin a gentle rocking, as if she is trying to fuck my hand. 

Her own attentions to my cunt have me very wet, and she too finds my lips and begins to stroke them, her movements uncanny in that it's like she knows exactly how I touch myself. Eventually, her finger slides into me in the classic 'come hither' pose, and her fingertip begins to gently stroke my G-spot while her palm puts pressure on my clit. I audibly gasp at the combination of feelings coming from my crotch.

The beauty of the moment is interrupted by Ian. "Yeah, baby, make that bitch moan." Andrea stops her oral attentions on my neck and raises her head to look at her husband.

"Are we driving you crazy, baby?" She coos to him. "I'm almost ready for you..."

She looks back at me, my eyes half-closed as her finger continues to stroke me. "Let's see if your tongue is as good as it was yesterday."

Andrea moves me to lie on my back with my head at the foot of the bed. As I move into position, I can see Ian idly stroking his hard, angry member, while Tim has the camera to his eye. He is obviously erect, but he does not have his cock in hand when I look.

Crouching over me, Andrea begins kissing from my breasts down my stomach. My legs fly open as she reaches my mons, but she continues on past my sex and on to my inner thighs, licking and kissing. I am expecting her tongue on my slit when she suddenly shifts her weight and puts a thigh on either side of my head. She lowers her cunt to my mouth and hisses, "eat me!" While I have no real choice in the matter, I have no desire to resist either, and begin licking and tasting her juices wherever my tongue can reach. It does not take long before her breath becomes ragged, and I can tell she is climbing the hill of her rollercoaster orgasm. Before I can send her over the edge, however, her hips lift from my lips. I am about to bring my head up to follow her pussy when I hear her say, "you can fuck me now, baby!" 

A shadow descends on me as Ian steps into position behind Andrea and directly over my face. He dips and pushes his cock down, drawing it back across my mouth before thrusting forward and guiding it into her pussy, now hovering above my face. I am spectator to a view I thought I would never see—I am inches from a cock thrusting into a woman's cunt. The strangeness of the situation is enough to drive me wild, and I begin to try and lick Andrea's pussy and Ian's cock as they meet, Ian's balls dragging across my nose and forehead. He ends his strokes with his cockhead just outside her pussy, my tongue dragging across the sensitive area underneath. 

"Oh God, she's licking my cock, babe, it feels so good..." he grunts between thrusts. "She's making me come..." 

"Do it babe, dump it all in me...fill me with cum!" 

With a final thrust, he buries himself in her and tries to get even deeper. I continue to lick, his balls slapping on my face as he continues to shake with each spurt he fires into her waiting cunt. Finally, he is spent, and holds himself buried deeply in the body above me. With a chuckle and a contented sigh, he slowly withdraws, his rod looking for all the world like a snake exiting its burrow. Eventually the head appears, pulling a drop of white pearly liquid along with it to be left on Andrea's lips.  




For the Weekend Ch. 12



Ian steps back and jokes, "well, that's something you don't see every day."

Andrea answers back quickly. "Keep watching." With that, she drops her pussy back on to my face, not so gently as before. Clean me out, slut," I hear her say, the words muffled by the thighs wrapped around me. I do my best, my position really giving me no choice, and taste the saltiness of Ian's cum mixed with Andrea's secretions. The amount of fluid is surprising to me, and while I continue to use my tongue to draw his sperm from her hole, I continue to get tastes. 

I can sense that Andrea is close. The rocking of her hips becomes more pronounced, and she forces her pussy on to my lips and probing tongue and draws her thighs tight around my ears as she cums. She continues to grind her sex into my face, trying to prolong the series of orgasm racing through her body. Eventually, the waves subside, but she does not remove herself from my head. Instead, I feel a body climb on to the bed and between my legs, followed by my hips being roughly raised and pillows being stuffed under my ass. It is in this position that I feel my legs being placed on shoulders and then I am mounted. I sense, rather than see, that it's Tim, and Andrea confirms this. "Oh yeah Tim, that's a fucking hot sight. Your cock looks so good sliding into her pussy. Fuck her, she needs to be fucked." 

Tim complies, his pounding not at all gentle, and I can tell he is not in for the long haul. It's obvious the show he has just witnessed has spurred him on, and it only takes a couple of minutes before he cums in me, slamming me with all of the strength he can muster. Andrea continues to cheer him on while he continues to pump his seed deep into my cunt. 

Tim finishes and sits back against the headboard. I think this round is over, however, Andrea has other plans. Tim's cock is quickly replaced by Andrea's tongue as she bends over my pussy, and returns the favor of cleaning up my partner's cum. Her tongue knows exactly where to go, and I am dimly aware of her cunt hovering near my chest as she brings me closer to orgasm. It builds, and suddenly I explode, my desire driven by the incredible nastiness of the situation I find myself in, one man's cum on my face, put there by another woman's pussy, while another man's cum is drawn from me by that woman's tongue. I tense and cry out, my muscles contracting with the waves of pleasure racing through every nerve in my body. I am barely conscious of my hands forcing Andrea's face deeper into my crotch, trying to maintain some sort of contact with my clit. 

Eventually, my orgasm wanes, and I am spent, a limp bundle of overloaded nerve endings. Andrea reverses her position, straddles my hips, her mound rubbing mine, and kisses me deeply, sharing the remains of Tim's orgasm on her lips.

She stops for a moment and says in a menacing voice, "how's that feel, cunt? Like the taste of three loads of cum? Ready for more, you slut?" 

I shake my head weakly, unable to muster anything more. I hear her softly say, "Aaannnd cut," and then she is lying next to me, gently holding me, caressing me.

"Sorry if I sounded a little harsh, there," the Andrea I knew from yesterday says. "I thought your husband might enjoy a little roleplay—lots of men love the 'butch' fantasy. You don't have to tell him it was an act..." I laugh weakly and return her hugs and caresses.



For the Weekend Ch. 13



Eventually we all move to the living room to finish of the coffee and pastries Tim had brought in earlier. Ian and Andrea have dressed again, while Tim has his robe, but I remain nude, conscious of the fact that I am the only one in this state. Tim has me sit at the foot of his chair, his right hand resting casually at the base of my neck as he talks with his guests. While my lack of clothing does not bother me in itself, I am very aware that it confirms my submissive status to them. 

Tim quickly reviews our weekend for Andrea, giving her the details what we have been up to since our visit to her office. I listen politely, still somewhat embarrassed by some of the details he is revealing to her, particularly the fact that her husband was witness to much of went on last night.

My curiosity is growing, however. Tim, Andrea and Ian have obviously done more than have breakfast together before this, and I wonder how this friendship came to this level of intimacy. I listen some more, growing more fascinated that Andrea seems so interested in all the details, then can stand it no longer. As Tim reaches the end of his story, I break in.

"May I ask you a question?" I ask Andrea.

"Sure," she replies, "shoot."

"Well, actually, I have a few, if that's alright." Without waiting for an answer, I begin rattling off all that is running through my mind. 

"How did you and Ian meet Tim? Obviously, both you and Ian are have a history with him, just how did you all get to where you are now?"

Andrea laughs, then looks at me, a kindly smile on her face. "Well," she begins, "we all met at a club Ian and I belong to. Tim was a guest one night, and he ended up winning a massage at our home studio that Ian was auctioning off as part of a club fundraiser."

I look at Andrea expectantly. "Is Ian a massage therapist, too?"

She laughs again. "No, although he is very good for a hobbyist. No, he was raffling off my services, to put it nicely."

I need to know more. "What kind of club is this? I would love to win another massage from you!"

Andrea laughs again, and continues. "You're sweet! It's a club where people who enjoy each other's company get together for dinners and parties and vacations...part of enjoying each other's company sometimes includes physical pleasures." 

The light begins to go on in my head. "It sounds like a swinger's club..." I say softly.

"I guess you can call it that," she replies slowly. "It's a group of people who enjoy each other's company, and sometimes that leads to physical pleasure. Most get-togethers are pot-luck dinners and conversation with an adult flair. Occasionally, we rent a hotel for a weekend and have a large party, with speakers and events and the like. People dress as they please and interact however they please. It's not unusual to see a nude man or woman on a leash talking to another person dressed in formal attire. Because everyone has different ideas as to what gives them pleasure, the club members do their best to give everyone the opportunity to experience their pleasure however they see fit—we're not at all judgemental, and jealousy really doesn't work well if you're a club member. Only couples can join. A certain number of guests are allowed at each club gathering, but a guest can only attend one event a year. 

Tim was there as the guest of another couple. Ian won the attention of the woman Tim was a guest of, and when he saw that my talents were up for auction, he thought it would be OK to bid. Tim came over to our house the next weekend, I gave him a massage and satisfied him, and we all found we enjoyed each other's company. Even though Tim is not a member of our club—yet"--Andrea looks at him and winks—"we still see each other regularly for dinner and daytrips. When he confided to us what his plans for this weekend were, I volunteered to help you relieve some of the stress I know you were going to build up. That, and Tim loves the idea of a little girl-girl action." She looks at Tim and smiles, who returns smile back in return. "Ian wanted to be at my office to watch as well, but Tim and I thought it would be a better idea if you didn't meet him until last night—we thought it might have overwhelmed you otherwise. Tim knows my preferences, so I was happy to volunteer my services."

I still have questions, and speak up when Andrea reaches for her tea. "You said auctioned," I start, "is it like a slave auction?" My bad girl side hopes I am right--I want to know more!

"The auction...", she says after taking a sip from her cup. "The auction happens once or twice a year, and is usually done at one our hotel parties, so we have lots of bidders and room to run it. The people who set it up make quite a show of it! Normally there are some services being auctioned, like my massage, and some people offer themselves for a period of time, like the woman Tim was a guest of. The auction raises money for club functions and charities, and all of the services—and people—" she says with a grin—"are freely given up for bid. Some people volunteer to be auctioned off, as it is a turn-on to be given to another, don't you agree? Other times one club member will ask another member to go on the block, as they believe they have a particular skill or look that is desired. I've 'volunteered'—with Ian's help-- to be auctioned off several times; Ian has been asked to be an auction item twice."

"Do you mean your massage got auctioned, or you?" I ask.

Andrea looks into her teacup, forming an answer. "My first time, it was just a massage. The last two times, my sale has been more 'complete.' My preferences are a little particular. I like to be sold to men for their use, but on the other hand, I like to have women under my control. The person being auctioned has the right to set limits on who they're being auctioned to, and for what purposes; I just specified that I could not be sold to another woman." She stops and seemed to be gauging my reaction before continuing on. "Ian, on the other hand," she laughs, "forgot to specify his limits the last time he was sold. He was really sweating when a male clubmember won the bid; luckily for him, he was a gift for the winner's wife." I look at Ian, and he seems to be confirming Andrea's statement with a deep blush. 

Ian finally speaks. "We would love to see Tim get auctioned off, not that will ever happen. He's too much the macho stud to allow another person to tell him what to do. That, and he's gotta be a member. We keep trying to get him to join, but he's missing one piece..."

"I'm not getting married to get laid by other people!" Tim laughs. "I'm doing fine one my own!"

"The rules don't say married," Andrea says lightly. "You just need a steady partner."

Further attempts to convince Tim to join go nowhere, and we continue to talk of other things for a while more. My attempts to get more details on these parties, and in particular, the auctions, meet with limited success. Most of my questions are met with various versions of "maybe one day you'll see." Tim's hand creeps down my shoulder down to the top of my breast, and he is eventually turning small circles on the skin above my nipple. 

"I think these kids need some privacy," Ian says as he stands. "Andrea, don't we have some errands to run?"

"We do," she says, rising off the couch next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Tim's only got this lovely thing for a little while longer, I'm sure he would like to take advantage." 

Tim gets up behind me and I rise last, conscious that the other 3 tower above me, both in height as well as their position in this hierarchy. I am Tim's for a while longer, to do with has he wishes. 

We walk Ian and Andrea to the door, both of them kissing me goodbye as they open it. Ian's kiss for me a quick peck on the cheek, Andrea's deeper and more prolonged, lip-to-lip as she wraps me in her arms. She breaks the clinch, and they step into the hallway. 

"Karen, why don't you walk them to the elevator?" 

I look at Tim in a panic—I know he's not going to allow me to cover myself—but I see he is just smiling back at me, looking to see if I dare. Ian and Andrea are waiting for me expectantly, and I swallow hard and step into the hall with them. We are the only ones in the corridor, and we set off towards the elevator at the end of the hall. My escorts seem to be taking their time, and I find myself listening intently for the sounds of footsteps, voices, or doors opening. 

We reach the elevator, and while Ian presses the call button, Andrea gives me one more kiss, this time slipping her finger into my sex. 

"You may look nervous, but your body is telling a different story," she says with a smirk. She takes my shoulder and spins me away from her, then lightly smacks me on the butt and says, "off you go." I hurry back to our room, my senses alert and my cheeks burning. Reaching the door, I realize Tim has closed it behind me! I knock softly but with a sense of urgency, hoping not to draw attention. Too late. A door opens down the hall and an older man in a suit and a tie steps into the hallway, closes his door behind him, then realizes with a start that there is a nude woman 30 feet away. He recovers and strolls towards me, smile on his face as I try to pull my own door open, jiggling the handle and knocking louder. The gentleman walks by me and I feel I have to give some sort of explanation.

"Got locked out after a shower," I say with an edge of panic in my voice, avoiding looking the man in the eye.

"I can let you into my room to finish," he says with a grin as he continues by, not averting his stare.

I don't answer, but instead knock again.

This time Tim opens the door and I scramble in, breathing hard from my nervous excitement. 

He's grinning—and nude. His cock is at half-mast, evidence he enjoyed my little show. "Sorry, it must have accidentally shut when you went out." 

I'm angry at being exposed like that, but also turned on, knowing the man in the hall found me attractive enough to abandon his sense of politeness and openly take in my nudity. Tim gathers me in his arms and kisses my forehead while his hands run up and down my back. The thrill of being in a strange man's arms continues to make my excitement build, and I find myself trying to give him access to the areas below my asscheeks. He stops caressing though, and turns away after releasing me from his grip. 

"Let's get dressed," he says. "Nice day for a walk." 

He dresses first, choosing a pair of jeans and a golf shirt, then rummages through my bag and pulls out a sleeveless cream-colored dress and tosses it to me along with my waistchain. I know there won't be any underwear coming out of the bag and so slip the garment over my head, finger-combing my hair in the mirror. The dress is one I've had for years and know that the thigh-high garment is split halfway up each side and is somewhat transparent when I'm silhouetted by the sun. I've never worn this without a bra and full-backed panties; this should be interesting. 

Tim has retrieved my sandals in the meantime, and I slip them on. He turns me once to evaluate his choice, nods, and moves to the door. I follow behind, my first thought to grab my purse, but realize I have not needed it all weekend. 

We reach the elevator without incident and ride in silence, Tim lifting the back of my dress enough to place his right hand firmly on my right cheek. We reach the lobby and he does not remove his hand until we are well into the public area. I blush a bit and smooth my dress self-consciously as it settles back on to my ass, certain the desk clerk saw where Tim's hand had been when we got off the elevator. James is in the lobby and smiles broadly at us as we walk by. Tim returns the smile and a nod, but I look at the floor to avoid eye contact, my cheeks flushing hotly. 

The sliding glass doors slide open before us and we step onto the sidewalk. Tim turns left and walks slowly, seemingly to allow me to keep up. I hurry along and am very conscious of the wind whipping around and through the city buildings. A weekend ago I would have been nervous about showing passerbys the color of my underwear as the breeze played with my hemline. Now I am worried about showing them much more. I hurry along after Tim, my left arm pressed against my waist to keep my dress down. I move beside him and slip my right arm through his left, and we walk on.

We walk for a couple of blocks, then turn left and walk a few blocks more. Tim seems to have a destination in mind...

We reach a small jewelry store set into the lobby of a large office building, and Tim opens the door for me. I step in and see the typical jewelry store setup, glass cases filled with many sparkling, pretty things. Tim follows me in, then steps up to a stooped old man behind one of the counters. The clerk looks up at and smiles from behind his jeweler's loup. "Timothy!" he cries as his eyebrow releases the black plastic to swing from a lanyard. "How good to see you again!" 

"Good to se you as well, Theodore, how are you feeling?" 

"Very well, very well indeed! The standard aches and pains for a seventy-year old man, but nothing major. And you, is this pretty young lady with you?" 

"She is. Theodore, I'd like you to meet Karen. Karen, this is Theodore. He's been a friend of the family for years." The jeweler offers his hand and I take it gingerly, afraid to apply too much pressure to the old man's bones. His grip is surprisingly strong, however, and he follows with a gallant kiss to the back of my hand. 

"Hello, my dear, very pleased to make the acquaintance of one so beautiful."

Tim laughs. "You old charmer, always after the ladies! She's with me this weekend!"

Theodore smiles again and releases my hand. "What brings you here today, Timothy?"

"I'm looking for something special for my friend here. Do you still offer that special line of crystal...?"

Theodore breaks into an even bigger smile. "I would not have guessed such a thing for this fine lady, but since you ask, it would be my pleasure—" he puts emphasis on the word and looks at me slyly—"to show you what I have." The old man turns to a pretty young girl at the other counter. She is tiny, no more than 5 feet tall, and probably just out of high school.

"Jeannie, can you keep an eye on things while I take these two out back?" 

"Yes sir, Mr. Epstein."

Theodore opens the gate between two of the counters and invites us through. Once on the other side, he turns the knob on the door behind him and holds it open while we step through. We are in a combination office and work area, papers and jewelers tools scattered about a large oak desk, a bright lamp illuminating the clutter. The old man takes a low backed chair and sets it to one side of the desk, curiously enough with the seat facing away from the desk. A folded towel is placed over the top of the back. He in turn sits on a low stool in front of the work area and opens the bottom right drawer of the desk, removing a sheaf of papers before slowly withdrawing a metal box. He sets it carefully on the sheaf of papers he had just removed and opens it, raising the lid to reveal a purple felt cloth covering the contents. He pulls back the fabric to reveal various pieces of crystal, ornate stones and metal that appear to be wine or perfume bottle stoppers. "Did you have anything in mind, Timothy?" 

"Well, Karen's favorite stone is emerald, do you have anything that might fit the bill?" 

Theodore carefully moves several pieces and to reach a finely-cut mass of crystal about 3 inches long, a large blunt end inlaid with the green stone and a band of steel around its circumference, tapering to a delicately rounded end. The piece appears to multifaceted and catches the light of the worklamp on the table, throwing sparks of color around the room. He hands the piece to Tim, who takes it from him and turns it several times to examine the workmanship. 

"The finest lead crystal, Timothy," the jeweler says with pride. "Coated and sealed to prevent the leaching of the lead. The shaft is cut with 18 facets to facilitate grip, yet keep it comfortably smooth. A single emerald inlaid into the head, and wrapped with a sterling silver band. I made that several years ago, have never found the right buyer. Perhaps I have today?"

Tim smiles, then shows it to me. "What do you think, Karen? Do you like it?"

I take it from him and examine it just as he did, then hand it back. "It's beautiful," I say truthfully. Is there a bottle that goes with it?"

Tim smiles and Theodore chuckles. "Not exactly," Tim tells me. He hands the piece back to the jeweler and tells him, "Would you like to fit it for her?"

"My pleasure," the old man coos, and reaches into the drawer again for a plastic bottle. "Young lady, would you bend over that chair for me, please?"

I look at Tim, my confusion surely registering, but he just smiles and waves his hand towards the chair. I face the seat and bend over the back, looking at the old jeweler, but he just laughs and says, "no dear, as beautiful as your face is, I'll need to see the other end." I think I finally understand what this piece of crystal is. I look at Tim as I move around to the other side of the chair and bend over the back, but he just continues to smile at me. My midsection is folded over the top of the chair, my feet on one side and spread a bit for stability while my elbows rest on the seat cushion. I hear the stool roll up behind me, and without ceremony, my dress is flipped up over my back. 

"Oh, she is absolutely lovely, Timothy! Exquisite!" A strong, gnarled finger runs up my pussy from clit to asshole, then retreats a bit and burrows into my cleft. I start a bit, but say nothing. His finger continues pushing and finds my vaginal opening, sliding in. "Ohh, that wasn't hard at all. If I was a few years younger, I might have something besides my finger to put in there. Has she been a naughty girl, Timothy?"

"As a matter of fact, she has. Want me to tell you about it?"

Theodore chuckles. "No, I'm not sure I'd like to know what my finger is sliding through right now. Maybe later." He plays with my cunt a moment more, then withdraws his finger. I hear a bottle cap being flipped open, the sound of squeezing, and then the feel of cold gel on my asshole. "Sorry dear," he says. "No microwave to warm that." He liberally coats my bud, then slides his finger in, further lubricating my back passage. Out comes the finger, and then...nothing. A moment or so passes, and I look up at Tim questioningly, but he just keeps looking back at me, smiling all the time. 

I am just about to look over my shoulder when I feel a warm hardness against my anus. I quickly realize it is the crystal, and the old man is pushing it into me slowly, my channel expanding as the tip of the crystal widens. It continues to push me open until with a sudden pop, the indentation below the head enters me and my ring closes around it. I can feel the bulbous jeweled end against my now filled hole. The old man pulls it out slightly then allows my anus to pull it back into place several times, as if he is testing the fit. 

"If I do say so myself, this tush is the perfect match for this piece! It catches the light beautifully!" 

"The plug, or the tush?" Tim asks teasingly.

Tim moves behind me and takes a look for himself. The jeweler reaches between my legs and tickles my clit, causing my anus to constrict involuntarily with the sensation. 

"I have to agree—I love how it sparkles when she moves. I think we'll take it." 

The jeweler runs his hand over my ass, then asks, "shall I box it for her, Timothy?"

"No, I'll think she'll wear it. Can you put it on my tab?"

Theodore gently lowers my dress back over my thighs and turns back to his desk, wiping the lube—both the bottle's as well as mine—from his hands. 




For the Weekend Ch. 13



Tim tells me I can get up, and I turn to face them again. The jeweler is smiling, his glasses pushed down his nose as he looks up at me. "Anything else for you, Timothy?"

No, thank you Theodore, that will be all for now."

"I have some nipple shields, nicely worked gold...maybe a hoop for her lips?" he says as he looks down to my crotch.

I panic a bit at the idea of being pierced down there, but Tim just tells him, "perhaps some other time," and says his goodbyes. 

Theodore, in turn, is really turning on the charm with me. "Young lady, please come back any time, and I will make you any piece you desire. You are stunning, and I hope to see more of you—" the sly smile returns as his eyes run up and down my body—" wearing my work again." He turns to Tim. "Is she available for modeling?"

"Not this weekend, we have other appointments unfortunately. Perhaps another time, though...Karen, Theodore here is not only a master jeweler, he is also an excellent photographer."

"You exaggerate, Timothy," the old man replies. "At least about the photography. I'm a hobbyist at best."

Tim and the jeweler talk for a moment more, then our goodbyes are said. Theodore once again kisses my hand, then my cheek, and invites me back "anytime".

A moment later we are back on the street again, walking back to the hotel. I'm certain everyone knows why my gait is different, and I worry that somehow the sunlight through my dress might strike the emerald...



For the Weekend Ch. 14



The walk back to the hotel is a mixture of sexual excitement and mental agony, every step reminding me of the piece of crystal firmly lodged in my anus. My body slowly begins to accept the invader, and I realize it will not fall out of me and drop to the sidewalk in front of some unsuspecting passerby. The nerve endings in my rosebud actually begin to tingle at the feeling of the bulbous head gently twisting back and forth as I walk. 

We eventually reach the lobby, where Tim spots James as we approach the elevators and tells me to stay there a moment. He walks over to where the young bellhop is stacking luggage and says something to him. James quickly stops what he is doing and looks at Tim, then nods enthusiastically. Tim returns to me while James returns to his chore with new energy. 

I look at Tim questioningly as he approaches. "Just thanking him," he says without further explanation, and we step onto a waiting elevator. I am not asked to give up my dress this time, but his hand is underneath it nonetheless, his hand centered between his asscheeks, his middle finger tapping gently on the jeweled bottlestopper embedded in me. 

Tim opens the door for me and enters after. I know the rules and step out of my sandals and pull the dress over my head, dropping it to the floor as the door slams shut. Tim is undressing as well, shoes already off and shirt over his head. He steps out of his jeans and underwear in one motion. His cock is at half-mast, his magnificent balls hanging loosely below his shaft. 

"Suck my cock," he says quietly, and I sink to my knees, kissing my way down his chest and stomach as I go, until I reach the thatch of wiry hair just above his manhood. I sink further to my haunches and kiss his cock from stem to tip, occasionally flicking spots with my tongue. I continue on below to his balls and lick, trying to separate the masses inside the loose skin from each other. 

Back up the folds to the underside of his shaft I go, drawing my tongue along its length to his opening, flicking it just a bit before opening my mouth to take his length into me. I go as deeply as I dare on this first pass, trying to wet all the skin I can reach before withdrawing and continuing on with shorter strokes, using my hand to form a pussy for him to fuck. 

Tim spreads his legs a bit and sighs contentedly, then removes himself from my mouth for a moment. Taking my other hand, he moves my middle finger to my lips. I get the hint and suck my finger for a moment before he pulls it out again and moves it between his legs to his asshole. I know what he wants and begin to massage his opening while he moves forward and put his cock back in my mouth. His pleasuring goes on for several minutes before he moves away from me and into the bedroom. I rise and follow, where I find him pulling my ropes out of the bag. I thrill at the thought and wait for instructions. 

Tim has me lie on the bed, freshly made after this morning's activities, with my head on the pillows. He sits astride my thighs, lowering himself enough to keep me in place while he reaches for my arms, bringing my hands together in front of him. He uses a an over-and-under crossing pattern to bind my wrists about 3 inches from each other, then puts my arms above my head. Another length of rope is run through the top of the headboard and then to the coil between my wrists, and is loosely tied so I may not lower my arms beyond my head. His cock is dangling in front of my face while he ties off the rope above my head, and I take the opportunity to run my tongue around its head while I suck. He laughs and allows me to play for a moment before he moves off the bed. 

He then grabs another length and wraps it around my left thigh a couple of times, then ties it off. Gently taking my left foot, he bends my leg until my calf forms a 90 degree angle with my thigh. Running the rope to my calf, he wraps, ties, and runs the remainder back along the cord between the two knots. Tim repeats the process with my right leg, then steps back to survey his work, his hand slowly stroking his length while he takes in the sight of me tied. I playfully bring my legs together to hide my pussy from him, but he just takes both feet and moves them apart again, showing me how easy it is for him to take what he wants. 

Tim climbs on the foot of the bed, his cock and balls swaying beneath him as he crawls up alongside me to my face and kisses me gently. His lips move across my cheek to my earlobe, where he continues kissing while mixing in some swipes of his tongue. My ears have always been one of my most sensitive spots, and it does not take long for me to start getting wild with anticipation of more. The feel of the ropes against my skin and the inability to move my hands to touch something, anything, only adds to my excitement. 

Soon his lips start to move down my neck while his left hand starts to gently caress my stomach. Circular motions, masculine touches, all centered above my hips and below my breasts. His hand moves towards my tits at the same rate as his lips slowly making their way down my neck and shoulders until they meet, one hand on my right breast, toying with the nipple, his lips on my left nipple, softly sucking and nibbling. 

He eventually continues to kiss down my stomach while his hand makes its way to my inner thighs, caressing and stroking eve closer to my very wet cunt. Once again, his fingers and lips reach my most sensitive spots at the same time, and his tongue flicks my clit as his finger enters me. He alternates his tongue moving over and through my slit with his finger for some time, occasionally moving my wetness up my thighs, and bringing his finger to my lips to suck. He senses when my orgasm begins to build, and suddenly stops, climbing off the bed. 

He goes to my bag and retrieves my Magic Wand, and promptly applies it to my clit in very small doses. The occasional vibrating of my button followed by the absence of any touch at all is driving me wild, and I beg Tim to fuck me, please fuck me! He just smiles and continues to torture me. 

This continues for several minutes more before there is a knock on the door. I freeze, my attention now fully on who that could be. Tim does not move to answer it, but instead I hear the sound of the electronic lock being accessed and the door opening. 

"Room Service, I brought the blankets and pillows you asked for, sir!" 

""C'mon in James, we're in here." 

The door closes, and James comes around the corner, stopping abruptly at the sight of a naked and very erect Tim crouching over a very naked and splayed me. 

"Sir, this has got to be the craziest wekend I have ever worked."

Tim laughs, lays the still-running vibrator on my clit, and slides off the bed. My hips involuntarily twitch from the tickling sensation coming from the wand, and it slides forward, between my legs to land on the bed. I suddenly remember I'm naked and spread in front of this young man, and my legs reflexively draw together, the shaft of the vibrator now trapped between my thighs and held firmly against my cunt. 

James smiles self-consciously, and looks at Tim, now wrapped in his white robe. He looks down at the pile of linen in his arms. "Where would you like me to put these, sir?"

"You can put 'em on the bed." James does as directed, gingerly placing them on the corner, as far from me as possible. Tim smiles, knowing the young man is distracted by the nude woman next to him. "You've been very helpful this weekend, and from what I can tell, very discrete. I wanted to make sure you were rewarded before the nice lady in front of you leaves. Want a shot at the prize?"

James is still trying to avoid looking at either me or Tim, instead looking at the floor at the foot of the bed. He slowly brings his eyes up, still not looking directly at Tim, but rather focusing on the bed next to my chest. "You mean...have sex with her?" 

"Yup. I'll wait my turn while you do. Do you mind if I watch?" 

James is now looking directly at my tits, and does not hesitate before answering. "Sure, I guess, I mean if it's OK with her—I mean, you, I'd like to do that." He stands there, still staring, not moving. 

Tim breaks the young man's spell of immobility. "You'll probably need to lose some clothes, or at least pull down that zipper," he says. "She's a little tied up right now—" I inwardly groan at the bad pun—"but I'm sure her tongue can get you going, if you need. Karen, why don't you show him the golden gates?"

I take the hint and move my still-bound legs apart, the vibrator still humming away in between them. James' eyes lock onto my pussy as he slowly starts to strip, picking up speed as he stares. "What is that in her butt?" he asks, never breaking his stare. 

"It's a fine piece of jewelry, also known as a buttplug," Tim answers, "although that seems too crude a name for this fine work of art. The jeweler who made this calls them 'boutonnieres,' I think that works well. You like it?"

"I've never seen one before," James says as he continues to look between my spread legs, his shirt and shoes off and his socks being pulled at with a sense of urgency. "It looks uncomfortable. Do a lot of women wear them?" 

"She walked quite a ways with that in her this morning," Tim replies, "and I think she got to liking it. Some women—and some men—wear them. I'll bet you'll never look at a woman's behind the same way, will you? Wondering if perhaps that nice girl in front of you in line at the movies is wearing one at the moment?"

"Pretty wild," Tim says, his pants now being flung off his legs with a rush. "I still like her ass better without it." He seems momentarily panic-stricken that his disagreement with Tim's obvious pride in the jewel will ruin his moment.

Tim just laughs and says something to the effect of 'to each his own' as James almost rips off his boxer shorts and stands there at the foot of the bed, a very angry-looking erection pointing towards the ceiling. He hesitates, unsure what to do next. "Can I...touch..her?" 

"Going to be hard not to," Tim chuckles. "That is, unless you want to jerk off looking at her. Some guys like to do that. You can cum on her wherever you want."

"No, no" James responds quickly. "I want to...do her." He kneels on the bed and crawls forward on them until he is between my knees, hard on just inches above my cunt. He bends over me and begins to kiss my breasts, inexpertly sucking the nipples, biting them and pulling them hard into his lips. I normally do not respond well to this type of treatment, but the situation has me extremely aroused and in a different place, and I respond with sharp intakes of breath and by bucking my hips against his dangling cock. Tim moves to the head of the bed and unties the rope holding my bound hands above me, and I quickly move them, still tied together, around James' neck and onto his back, scratching him gently as I run my fingers up his spine. He sucks and chews my tits for a moment more, then drops his crotch to mount me. My tits are momentarily forgotten as he looks down our joined sexes and concentrates on the task of putting himself in me. I tilt my hips to help him in, and he slides in without any attempt at teasing. His eyes move up again to meet mine, a slight look of surprise on his face as his cock slides into my pussy and bottoms out when his balls touch my ass. He returns his attention to my tits, sucking and licking them feverishly as his thrusts quickly reach maximum strength. 

I cheer him on. "Fuck me, fuck me with your huge cock," I say as my fingernails rake his back, my legs coming off the bed with his pounding. In reality, and with my limited experience, his cock is of a pretty average size, but I know that any man, particularly a young inexperienced one, wants to hear the virtues of his manhood from the woman he is buried in. 

His youth, his excitement, my encouragement—it is obvious he is ready to explode. His pounding of my cunt quickens to the point where I am having great difficulty controlling the movement of my bound legs, and then with a reflexive thrust and a small cry, he empties himself in me. He takes several deep breaths and exhalations, his head now wedged between my shoulder and neck, flexes his hips a few more times to prolong his pleasure, then is still. I continue to gently scratch his back from his firm asscheeks up to his shoulder blades. After several moments of lying between my legs, he slowly rises and reverses his shuffle until he is standing at the foot of the bed again. His cock is wet with our juices and still half-hard. The wonder of youth!

Suddenly self-conscious James is back, and he begins to grab for his clothes. "I should really get back to work," he stammers. "They'll wonder..."

"Up to you," Tim says in a most relaxed voice. "I'm going to replace that boutonniere with something else, if you catch my drift. Too bad you need to get back to work. You would have been welcome to watch..."

"Well, I might be able to stay a few more minutes," James temporizes. He still stands by his clothes, unsure what to do next. 

Tim drops his robe, revealing a very erect cock. My hands are again tied to the headboard, and then he moves to the stack of linen James delivered and stuffs them under my ass to elevate my pussy well off the bed. "You can stand wherever you want to get the best view," he says to James, "or sit down, if you want." James chooses a spot behind and to the left of Tim. My guess is he has a very good view of my ass and cunt from that angle. His hand has already strayed to his cock, and is gently stroking it back to life, seemingly unaware he is even doing it, in anticipation of the show to come.

Tim is also fisting his member, spreading his precum up his shaft with each stroke. He approaches my waiting body and pulls the crystal from my ass, then kneels on the bed, his torso towering above me. A slight move forward, and his cockhead is nestled against my anus. 

"I'm pretty sure you're still well lubed from earlier," he says, then grabs my hips and gently thrusts forward. He's right, as his staff enters with just a little discomfort, and he slides smoothly into my ass, his pubic hair soon tickling my pussy lips. His thrusting is a marked contrast to James—smooth, not at all frantic, very much letting me know he is control. My body accepts his cock much more readily than my first time, and the feeling is not at all unpleasant, more one of being filled. The stimulation of my opening by the boutonniere has made the nerve endings appreciate the flesh sliding over and by them all the more. 

Tim is still kneeling, hands moving to the tops of my thighs to help push him into me with each downstroke. His eyes alternate between looking down on the body below him and closing to enjoy his pleasure. He suddenly stops with his rod buried deep in me. "Tell me what you want me to do to your ass," he says as he looks down on me. 

"Fuck me, please, fuck my ass."

"I'm already doing that. Why should I continue?"

"Because you want to cum, you want to cum in my ass."

"Your mouth or cunt will work too. Why should I cum in your ass?"

The forbidden activity we are engaged in spurs my excitement, and the bad girl takes over. "I want your cum up there! I want to feel it run out of me, down my leg! I want everyone to see it, and know where it came from! Please, please cum in my ass!" 

Tim smiles down at me. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." He begins his sawing motion again, this time with more force. Soon he is driving into me, moving towards his orgasm. "Here it comes, cunt, here comes my juice!" He thrusts several more times, his strong hands gripping my thighs tightly, then pushes his cock as deep as it will go, his whole body tensing as he yells through his pent-up ejaculation. 

He comes down off of his high with a sharp exhalation, then climbs off the bed. He grabs the crystal lying nearby and gently inserts it back in my ass, turning it once or twice to coat the shaft and head with the remains of his orgasm. Even as stretched out as I feel, my ring closes around it, keeping it firmly in place. We both look at James and he is stroking furiously as he stares at my open legs. 

"Don't waste that," Tim tells him. "Why don't you stroke that thing on her face?" 

James the excited young male is back and does not hesitate as he quickly straddles my chest and begins stroking again, this time a bit more controlled than a moment before. I decide to play a bit and encourage him, licking my lips and pulling out my sluttiest talk. 

"C'mon James, cover my face with your hot cum! I want to feel it running down my cheeks, I want to taste it, cover me with it! I want to watch it shoot out of your cock!" 

James responds and his pace and breathing quicken, the head of his rod turning an almost purplish-red from the pressure he is exerting on it. 

"I love watching you stroke that thing, make it—" my filthy patter is suddenly interrupted by the feel of Tim applying the head of my buzzing vibrator back on to my clit. I begin to hump it intensely, threatening to buck poor James off in the process. 

He will not let that happen though, and raises himself above me just a bit to clear some space from my writhing body. It's in this position that he cums, his fist gripping his length by the head, long ropy strands shooting across my lips and nose to land in my hair and on my forehead. Several spurts land in my mouth, conveniently open from the feeling of the vibrator against my clit, and I swallow greedily before moaning out my pleasure again. Tim knows what he is doing with the device, and I wrap my thighs around his hand as best I can to keep it in one place as I begin my own orgasm. 

I rocket to the crest of my climax, the sheer taboo of it all, my ass and pussy filled with cum, a young man astride my tits, my face covered in his spend, all of this spurring me on. I come long and hard, crying out, fucking the vibrator as best I can. 

Eventually I wind down from the experience, totally spent. I feel, rather than see, James get off of me, and my left ankle is grabbed by a strong hand. I slowly open my eyes to see Tim tying my ankle to the bed frame while James is beginning to dress. Tim repeats the process with my right ankle, and reaches for his clothes. 

James is dressed first, looks at me, still lying there, tied, and says, "thank you." Tim escorts him out of the room and I hear them talking in low tones, then the door opens and closes again.

Tim comes back in, and quickly finishes dressing. He sits on the bed beside me and I think he is about to untie me, but instead he bends and kisses me gently, then straightens. 

"I have to step out for a while," he says. "I've had a wonderful time, I hope you have too. Remember what I said yesterday—if you wish to continue this, or continue with someone else, just talk it over with Rich, and he'll know how to get in touch with me. I have to say, you certainly have a flair for it..."

"You're not going to leave me tied like this, are you?" I say, panic rising in my voice. 

"Not to worry," he says. "Someone will be along to untie you shortly." He kisses me again, goes to the doorway, looks back and smiles, and then leaves. 

I am gripped with fear as to how I am going to get myself out of this. I'm certain he has taken care of everything, but who has he chosen to be my 'savior'? 

I lie there in fear for ten minutes, testing my bonds, trying to see if I can somehow reach the knot holding my bound hands to the headboard. My fingers can feel the rope disappear beyond the mattress, but I can't find the elusive knot.

I suddenly hear the sound of a keycard in the door, and I freeze. The door opens, and I raise my head off the pillow, my eyes flying to the bedroom doorway, nervously awaiting a view of who has come into the room. I hear the sound of movement, and then a shadow at the doorway. Bejeweled ass propped in the air, another man's cum running down my slit and drying on my face, Rich turns the corner...




For the Weekend Ch. 14



The End

If you've made it this far, I thank you for your continued interest! I am currently looking for ideas to build my next story out of. My husband has asked me to keep it a surprise until I give it to him to read. If you have any suggestions, I would love to hear them—please e-mail me via my CONTACT page with any ideas, either to continue this story, or to go in a completely different direction. Thanks to all who have given me encouragement, praise, and constructive criticism—this was my first try at this type of thing and found it to be a lot of fun! And most of all, thanks for reading!